Losing sight
by emzigale07
Summary: month or so after the end of 'Seeing' a wounded Ivy is preparing to go off with Harry, Ron and Hermione to track down the Horcruxes, and Draco is adjusting to life as a Death Eater. However neither one of them can seem to escape the other, set during DH.
1. The ends beginning

**Summery: It's a month or so since the end of 'Seeing', Ivy is preparing to go off with Harry, Ron and Hermione to track down the Horcruxes and is determined to do all she can to bring down Voldemort and his Death Eaters. However, she still can't seem to shake the after effects of Draco leaving, though she pushes them aside and tells herself they are nothing. Draco meanwhile is finding life in the Malfoy Manor difficult and frustrating. Following the events of Deathly Hallows with a few of my own twists.**

**Disclaimer: as with the last fic, I own nothing Harry Potter related, Ivy and her family and Carcia and Marcus are my OC's but that's as far as it goes really.**

**Chapter one: the ends beginning**

**Draco**

The similarity between his current situation and the one he had been in about eight months ago was not lost on Draco. As he sat with his parents in the drawing room of his manor home, seated on the sofa opposite them and once again with his back to the door, they all anxiously awaited news from his aunt. He could however, see that there were some differences, such as this time his father, who had recently been freed from his cell in Azkaban, was sitting next to his mother, who this time was not AS frightened for Draco's life as before, and Draco, unbelievably, thought that he was in an even worse situation than he had been all those months ago. At Christmas that idea would have been unthinkable, the old Draco could not even begin to imagine a situation worse than being forced to work night and day to repair a vanishing cabinet that would allow him to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts and kill its headmaster, all to keep his family and himself safe from the Dark Lord's wrath. And as if that task wasn't difficult and critical enough the Dark Lord had 'gifted' him with another job, to find the Seer among Potter's friends and convince them not to share anything they saw about the Dark Lord's plans with Potter. No, eight months ago Draco couldn't have imagined a scenario worse than that, but of course, that had been before the afore mentioned Seer had changed everything. Ivy Jones, a Muggleborn witch and close friend of Harry Potter was the very last person Draco had expected to feel anything for, his upbringing firmly went against such emotions but there had seemed to be nothing he could do to stop them. His priorities had changed and with them what Draco could stand to bear. The change had been gradual, as slow as his quietly building feelings, but irrevocable just the same. The changes weren't dramatic, he was still proud to be a pure blood, he still hated Potter and Weasley, he would still insult Granger the first chance he got and he couldn't stop the cruel thoughts he sometimes got. However, he now wanted to change that, Ivy had made him want to be a different person, someone like her, and for Draco that was a huge deal, no one had every inspired such emotions in him as she had.

Sitting ramrod straight in his seat Draco wished that his aunt would hurry up and tell him the news, darkness was falling outside and they had expected word hours ago. Draco wouldn't be able to calm down until he found out what had happened. Trapped in the silent room, since neither of his parents had anything to say, Draco had only his own thoughts for company and he tried to ignore them as much as possible. If he didn't they would surely drive him insane. Her face dominated his thoughts, she smiled at him in a way that he knew she never would again, his mind was torturing him, showing him what he could never have because of the decisions he had made. She would never forgive him, he knew that, Ivy's forgiveness would stretch only so far, he was sure she hated him and that thought tore him apart. He couldn't change that though, he had done what he had to do to save his family and his self and he knew that he would do it again if he had to, regardless of the consequences. That didn't mean that he didn't regret it of course, even if he hadn't been the one to kill Dumbledore, he still felt the guilt and shame as though he had. This was surprising, since Draco had once thought that killing the old wizard would have been something to be proud of. The very idea was laughable now.

Frowning to himself Draco tried to ignore the throbbing in his chest, exactly where his heart used to be, and pushed aside the image of Ivy's fury the last time he had seen her by Hagrid's Hut and instead touched the finger where his platinum ring used to be. Before he could stop himself Draco wondered where the ring was now, he hoped that Ivy still had it but he knew her well enough to know that there was a distinct possibility that she had thrown it away. To this day he had no idea why he gave it to her, only that he couldn't keep himself from doing it. His father had been furious to discover that the ring was missing and that Draco had no explanation as to why, it was a family heirloom after all, and it was probably at the bottom of the Black Lake or something like that, Draco thought almost laughing in hysteria at the idea. Wouldn't that just have been perfect?

As one the Malfoy's all jumped when the sound of the door opening echoed through the silent drawing room, Draco span around, his blood pressure rising rapidly as he looked in earnest to the door. It wasn't Bellatrix though; frustrated Draco spotted the house elf they had taken up to replace Dobby, Kidda he believed she was called, dusting the cabinets in the corner of the drawing room. She had been the one who opened the door. Furious at the false alarm Lucius Malfoy jumped to his feet, strode across the room and picked the elf up by the scuff of her tea towel and flung her roughly back into the hall, shouting that they weren't to be disturbed unless it was by Bellatrix or the Dark Lord. As he watched his father Draco was reminded of an image he had long since forgotten, it was of Ivy in their fourth year as she sat at the Gryffindor table and helped her friend Granger make badges and things for her stupid elf protection society she made up. Ivy had always been kind to elves; Draco recalled and suddenly resented his father's treatment of Kidda.

He scowled but remained silent though, his father hadn't been in the best of moods since returning from Azkaban and Draco knew it was best to hold his tongue. Lucius Malfoy was on edge right now, having been confined to his home until the Dark Lord took over and he would be allowed back into society, he hated being cooped up like this and thought nothing of venting his frustration on his son verbally, despite this past year's trials. It didn't help that the Dark Lord was using the manor as his command station either, the intimidating presence of Lord Voldermort walking the corridors of Malfoy Manor all the time put considerable strain on its residents, with the soul exception of Bellatrix, who actually enjoyed his being there. Today was a rare occasion where the three Malfoy's were on their own, the rest of the Death Eaters were all busy doing their allotted tasks and the Dark Lord was completing a secret mission of his own, the Malfoy's were alone for the first time in months. Things were still awkward though, his parents could see a change in Draco, it was only a faint one but they didn't know what to do with him now, he seemed to be privately turning his nose up at everything to do with the Dark Lord's plans and when their master was around he was silent and frightened all the time. They couldn't understand it; they had thought he wanted the honour of being a Death Eater, but apparently not.

"Cissy!" Came an excited shout from a short distance away, all three of the Malfoy's jumped, Draco, who had been forcing himself to think about the task at hand, not his emotions, and Narcissa and Lucius, who were regarding their son with confusion.

On his feet in an instant Draco span around as his aunts familiar voice continued to shout as she made her way down the corridor towards them "Cissy!" she repeated several more enthusiastic times before bursting through the door, Draco knew what she was going to say before she said it, but that didn't lessen the blow.

"We've done it!" his black haired aunt exclaimed as she strode into the room, a slightly manic look in her dark eyes.

"You mean…?" Lucius asked with a sudden excitement, taking a step towards his sister-in-law.

"Yes," Bellatrix gladly confirmed "the Ministry has fallen. The Dark Lord now controls the Ministry!" she all but sang in her joy for her master.

Draco's heart sank, it was all he could do not to lower himself back into the chair and hold his head in his hands, this was exactly what he hadn't wanted to hear. However, Draco had years of practice putting on a front and managed to remain upright and composed as his aunt, who usually couldn't stand his father, ran up to Lucius and gave him a hug, she then turned to her sister and did the same. Though his body showed no outwardly reaction to the news Draco's mind was working furiously, running this new information through his mind. The Ministry had fallen, the Dark Lord now had control and while that now meant that Draco, who was wanted by the Order of the Phoenix for his part in Dumbledore's murder, was free to roam the wizarding world as he pleased along with his father, it also meant much worse things. It meant that Ivy was in danger. This was the horrific situation which was worse than the last one Draco had been in, where he was forced to watch, helpless, as Ivy was put in danger. The Dark Lord once again wanted Ivy so that he could use her visions to help him control the wizarding world. He couldn't allow that to happen, emotion built up in his chest as he thought about it, for Ivy that would be a fait worse than death and one that could ultimately lead to it. When he had gotten what he wanted from her, Draco surely knew, the Dark Lord would execute Ivy for aiding Potter as she had all these years. And while Draco had convinced the Dark Lord that Ivy was not a Seer at Christmas, Snape had since assured him that Draco was mistaken and that Ivy did in fact possess the sight and Voldemort was once again hell bent on controlling her. He was stuck now; the threat hanging over his family had not gone away, if anything Draco was deeper in the mud than he had been before now that he was a fully fledged Death Eater, he had more responsibility and it would be harder than ever to get out. Not that he had anything to try and get out for any more.

"Are they moving on with the plan?" Lucius asked and Draco's ears prickled, this was what he had been worried about, if the Ministry fell today, which it had, then the Death Eaters could take down the protective enchantments around the Weasley house, where Potter and more importantly Ivy were staying, meaning that they could go in and get them. That was what had Draco terrified, he had been left out of the group of Death Eaters assembled for this task which meant that there was nothing he could do to sabotage the mission or protect Ivy. If the Death Eaters went to the Weasleys he had no doubt that she wouldn't escape.

"Yes, they are taking down the enchantments even as we speak." Bellatrix said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Excellent," Said Lucius, who was positively giddy at the idea of Death Eaters descending on the Burrow and giving those blasted Weasley's what they deserved.

Blood pounding in his ears as Draco emotions built up suddenly, taking him by surprise since he had felt little other than numbness, regret and fear for weeks, he was angry now, filled with a furious protectiveness and he knew that he couldn't just stand here and do nothing. It didn't mater that there was nothing much he could do, Draco had to try. Lips set in a firm line and blue eyes flashing with determination Draco promptly turned away from his family and headed towards the door, his mind buzzing with potential ways to help Ivy, he was halfway to the door when the sound of his mother's voice stopped him.

"Draco," she said confusion obvious in her voice "where are you going?"

Looking back over his shoulder Draco did his best to look calm and hide the fact that he was barely restraining himself from running out of the drawing room and apparating over to the Weasley house, he wasn't sure how successful he was. "To my room," he answered as coolly as he could, going for a tone of indifference. "I can't see what else I can do down here."

"Don't you want to celebrate?" Bellatrix demanded, looking almost insulted that Draco should want to leave at a time like this.

"Not yet," he said turning back to face the doors and setting off walking again "I'll wait until we know the outcome of tonight." Draco said, thinking that if this worked out well for him and Ivy managed to escape then he'd crack open the firewhisky himself and have a little sing song, and that if it did work out and Ivy was captured he'd quite happily drown his sorrows in a bottle.

Draco was at the doors and wrenching them open before anyone else could protest, shutting the doors behind him Draco looked up and down the darkened corridor and upon finding that he was definitely alone he broke out at a run. Sprinting down the corridors of the Malfoy Manor the young Death Eater rushed into the entrance hall, grabbed hold of the polished, wooden banister and used it to swing himself up onto the staircase and give him more momentum. Taking to the stairs two at a time Draco dashed forward, determination and desperation propelling him forwards and his every thought on keeping her safe. Even if she'd never know.

**Ivy**

**A few hours earlier**

Alone in Ginny's bedroom I stared at myself in her full length mirror, unsure about what I saw there. I was just finishing getting ready for Fleur and Bill's wedding and was wearing some new dress robes for the occasion, however, something in my reflection didn't seem right to me, I just couldn't put my finger on what. This wasn't a vanity thing, I can promise you that, in my opinion there was nothing all that wrong with the way I looked, I could have stood to be a little taller to better suit the dress but I didn't look dreadful by any means, in fact I kind of liked what I was wearing. It wasn't that I was picking holes in the way I looked or that I didn't look right to myself, it was something else, something I couldn't quite figure out.

Running my hands down the front of my dress to smooth it out I tried to figure out what was wrong. In keeping with the light and happy style of weddings I had opted for a baby blue, floor length dress, it was simple in design and plain but for the layer of blue lace (the same colour as the dress) which lay atop the blue silk from the neckline to the waist and formed sleeves on my otherwise bare arms. It was a pretty dress, light and airy if not entirely me, while the patterned lace and all was nice; I felt that my dress for the Yule Ball had suited me better. My heart pranged in my chest at that and a feeling of cold emptiness spread though me but I quickly smothered it, keeping up with my new philosophy that if you didn't think about something it stopped being so important. Returning my gaze to the mirror I carried on inspecting my reflection, on my feet I was wearing a pair of strappy baby blue heels and my hair hung impossibly straight to my shoulders, a result of the straightening spell Ginny had taught me. My complexion was a little paler than normal, a result of weeks of planning and staying indoors, along with one or two other things I wouldn't think about, but a complexion spell and a bit of make up had cleared that out. Puckering my light pink lips I struggled to think what was missing, I had a feeling that it was obvious but I just couldn't see it.

Sighing I raised a hand to press against the small, circular object hidden behind the neckline of my dress. The platinum and emerald ring hung from a silver chain around my neck, hidden at all times by a top, or in this case a dress, since I didn't want anyone else to see it and ask questions. I refused to wear it on my finger any more, to me it felt like I was accepting what had happened to me and the act of wearing it would turn me into some brooding old woman who would sit and weep about what happened to her and do nothing about it. I wasn't going to be a Miss Havisham, no way. I kept HIS ring for one reason and one reason only, to remind me never to trust him again, it served as a constant reminder of what he was capable of and that I would never allow myself to be fooled by him again. Scowling at my reflection I pulled my hand away from the ring, my thoughts quickly turning to the promise I had made myself and the decision I had made. I had decided that I would never talk or think about Malfoy ever again if I could help it and unless it was absolutely necessary, something that all of my friends respected. Even Harry, who had been trying to get me to talk about Draco for some time, had recently given up in his efforts. I had made this choice, to pretend that didn't mean anything and was nothing more than a foolish mistake, out of self preservation, it was easier to get through things if I put the reason for my broken heart out of my mind, sometimes it even made it hurt less. That said there were some times when I allowed myself to think of Malfoy. Whenever I was feeling frightened by the mammoth task my friends and I were going to undertake or when I lost faith in what we were going to do, then and only then would I remind myself of all the dreadful things Draco Malfoy had done to me, what he had been intending to do to Dumbledore and what he would be doing to others as a Death Eater. As soon as those thoughts filled my mind all doubt would leave me and I would be overcome by such rage and such determination that there was no way that I could think twice about taking on Voldemort and his Death Eaters, HE was all the motivation I needed.

Pulling myself out of my dark and vengeful mood, since once I started thinking about what I would do to Malfoy the next time I saw him there tended to be no stopping it, and alarmingly sometimes my thoughts drifted from making him regret what he did to me to something completely different. And those sought of thoughts were exactly what I did not need. No, I said pulling my mind back to the task at hand, this feeling had nothing to do with the ring; it wasn't why I felt something was off here. I felt almost as though something was…missing, yeah that was it, something was missing from my reflection. Looking at myself in the mirror once more I inspected myself intently, in the mirror I saw a girl of seventeen, average build, average height, brown hair, brown eyes, dark brows knitted together in thought and lips pursed tightly. I couldn't see anything missing, other than the recent addition of the chain there was nothing that I usually wore, no piece of jewellery, nothing of sentimental value that I always wore. So how come I felt the absence of something, something vitally important? Unless, I thought cautiously, unless what was missing wasn't an object at all, but rather a person, someone who ought to have been here.

That got me really thinking then and of course the first thing I thought of was my parents, who probably should have been here, they had always gotten on with the Weasleys and I had no doubt that if it were possible they would have been here for Bill's wedding. They weren't here though, they were in hiding, taken away from the life they knew and plunged into the dangerous and inconvenient world I lived in, protected by the Order from the most dangerous dark wizard of all time so that he couldn't use them against me. I glared at the floor when I thought about the reason they had to go into hiding, I knew full well who I blamed for that and it was just one more offence of the list of the ways he had wronged me. However I pushed that thought aside and returned to looking at myself, imagining my mum and dad reflected at either side of me in the mirror and wondering if they were what was missing. Terrible though it was to admit, since I dearly loved my parents, I knew that they weren't it, I was so used to being separated from them to go to school and whatever else that though I did miss them I wasn't devastated by their absence here. Besides, I had seen them not very long ago, the Order had granted me permission to go and visit them for a week where they stayed with Marcus and Carcia. Thinking about that I felt myself smile, seeing them had been exactly what I had needed, to see first hand that they were all okay and coping with this change, they had all been worried about me of course having heard about what happened at Hogwarts, but I had soon reassured them. It was certainly strange, being without them once more, but not unbearable like this feeling was, and though I felt like a rubbish daughter for admitting it, being without them was something I was used to. So it wasn't them missing from this picture.

After my family the next logical people to be missing were my friends, however it couldn't possibly be them because they were only downstairs, helping to welcome Bill and Fleur's guests like I should have been. They would be standing beside me again very shortly so it couldn't have been them that I was missing. Once again I felt as though the answer was blindingly obvious as I looked at myself in the mirror, dressed in my finery and about to go to a party, of sorts. What had I had the last time I was dressed like this? I wondered thinking about the Yule Ball, which recently I had been trying to do as little as possible. Who had been with me at the Ball that wasn't here now? I wondered and then it hit me. My bruised heart plummeted in my chest and for a moment I was in freefall as I realised what was missing. It was Drac – Malfoy, he had spent the greater portion of the Yule Ball with me, which was the last time I had been dressed like this and which was why I was missing him. Recovering quickly from feeling as though I had been punched in the gut I turned sharply away from the mirror, refusing to look at my reflection any more, ashamed and guilty that I had felt this way. Bloody Malfoy! I raged internally as I gritted my teeth and scowled at the floor, how could I possibly be missing him, the last time we'd been together on a formal occasion he'd spent the entire night arguing with me, complaining that I couldn't dance and making me feel pathetic, why should I want him here now? It was absurd! Even if he had helped me get back at Aleksandar and Pansy and made the night almost entertaining.

Letting out an enraged noise I threw myself into a sitting position on the camp bed and dropped my head into my hands as I glared. I was still defending him. Still! What was wrong with me? I hated him with a burning passion, he had betrayed me, lied to me, led me on, put my life and the lives of those I cared about at risk, and tried to kill Dumbledore. How could I even try to defend him after that? Slowly I lifted my head out of my hands and sighed, these bloody emotions will be the death of me, I thought as I looked around and tried to be rational. Okay, yes there was a part of me that still wanted to believe that Draco had some good in him, but there was a larger, smarter, more dominant part that believed he was a lying, traitorous, Death Eater who was going to get what was coming to him and that I should be the one to give it to him. Draco Malfoy was vile, he was prejudiced, he was a bully, he was a potential murderer and he caused nothing but trouble wherever he went, I knew all that, I just had to focus on it in times of weakness like this, I thought as I knocked a stray curl from my eyes. This wasn't the time to be having doubts though, along with protecting my friends and helping the wizarding world, getting back at Malfoy was my motivation for undertaking this task, it wouldn't do to doubt that now.

Sitting up straight I fixed a firm expression in place and forced myself to think about how someone needed to put a stop to Voldemort and his Death Eaters and Harry might be just the person to do that, that I might be able to help him do it. I'd convinced myself a thousand times over that Draco didn't matter to me and that he never had, that the only reason I hurt so much was because I felt angry and betrayed. It was the same thing now, I told myself, I wasn't missing Draco now, and it only felt strange that he wasn't here because he had been the last time I'd been dressed up like this. It was nothing else, I insisted, just the memories of the Yule Ball, it meant nothing and it certainly didn't effect my desire to make Draco pay or mean that I actually felt anything for him. I tried to convince myself, believing that I actually had and feeling determination fill me once more, even as a firm little voice in my head said,

'yeah, right.'

**Author note: I'm back, you didn't even have the time to miss me! I think I've updated quicker than I would have done if I were writing a new chapter and not planning and starting a new fic, but here it is, I couldn't seem to hold this chapter back, I hope you guys like it. :)**


	2. Safety

**Chapter two: Safety**

**Ivy**

Perched on the end of the camp bed in Ginny's room I looked around the room, the desire to do something filling me up but I was not really in the mood to go down to the others yet. I needed to get my head straight first, to put my priorities in order and get myself in the right frame of mind for the task that lay ahead of me, it would do me no good to dwell on the past now. Glancing at Ginny's bedside table I spotted my wand and reached out to pick it up. Feeling the slender wooden stick against my finger tips I hitched up the silken skirt of my dress and slipped the wand into a holder around my leg, I wasn't taking a bag downstairs and I had nowhere else I could put it that was easy to access. I had to have my wand with me, I thought as I let the hem of my dress fall back to the floor and I straightened out the skirt, the wizarding world had taken a turn for the more dark and dangerous lately, you never knew what would happen next. There were prominent witches and wizards disappearing and turning up dead left right and centre, it wasn't wise to walk about unarmed, even in the places were you felt safe. Because now no one was out of harm's way, not even the bravest or most skilled duellers. That thought triggered a memory and with a heart full of sorrow I remembered the best example of the fact, that no one was safe anymore.

**A few weeks ago**

The cool summer breeze ran its fingers through my hair as I sped through the night sky with Bill on the back of a Threstral. Clinging to him I couldn't help but feel that I'd sooner be on a broom, but I knew that tonight wasn't the night to be complaining and I'd be fine as I was, besides the rush of adrenaline that came with flying was still there and I'd missed it lately. Looking right I glanced in the direction I knew the others, who flying along side us, were. I couldn't see them due to the Disillusionment Charm everyone had up, but I knew they were there and I felt a certain amount of comfort and pride from knowing we were all flying out together. Determination filled me up as we flew towards our destination, this was my first real mission alongside the Order and it was a vitally important one, tonight we were taking Harry away from Private Drive to the Burrow before his mother's charm broke and he became vulnerable to the Death Eaters. It was a very delicate operation, given the state of the wizarding world at the moment, which was shifting more and more towards being owned by Voldemort with each passing day.

It had taken a lot of planning from the Order but they had worked out a plan we were all happy with and we were executing it tonight. In addition to Bill and I there was also Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Tonks, Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Moody, Kingsley and Mundungus in the team that would be safely transporting Harry away. We were all anxious about the way things were going to go tonight, trouble was a very real and frightening possibility, despite everything that had been done to prevent anything going wrong and everyone was feeling the pressure. Myself included, despite how flying made my heart feel weightless in my chest, my stomach still seemed to be filled with led.

Turning away from the others I looked down at the scattered lights of the Muggle town we were flying over, wondering where we were now, we'd left the Burrow a while ago now, we had to be near little Whinging by now. As I stared out into the blackness bellow, dotted here and there with lights, I felt my mind start to drift, trying not to over think the task we were going to do I thought about the past few weeks with a slight fond smile in place. They had been pleasant, but the calm before the storm I couldn't help thinking.

As soon as we left Hogwarts for the summer I had come straight to the Burrow with Ron, as the Weasley's had taken me in during the holidays since I couldn't stay with my parents. This meant, in addition to spending a lot of time with my second family, I was swept up in the Weasley's preparation for Bill and Fleur's wedding, which as a safety precaution for Harry would be held in the Weasley's garden. Every moment since then had been spent running round with the Weasley children, tidying the garden, emptying the attic, dusting in the rooms, helping Fleur try on her wedding dress for the hundredth time, those sort of things. I didn't have a problem with any of this, and why should I? The Weasley's had taken me in without a second thought ever since Boxing Day and had made me feel really welcome, not once did I feel like I was getting in the way, this was simply an opportunity to thank them for letting me stay with them and have some fun with friends. Fred, George and Ginny made even the most tedious tidying tasks enjoyable and often had Ron and I in stitches.

Things hadn't all been rosy though, I thought with a frown, I might have been enjoying this bit of calm with my friends but the gravity of what we were about to do was always with us, weighing on our minds. Never more so than when Hermione arrived at the Burrow. Fred, George, Ron and I had been cleaning out the pond in the garden using the Wingardium Leviosa charm, finding all kinds of strange things drifting beneath the surface, when Hermione apparated just beyond the gate. Dripping wet from head to toe thanks to the water fight Ron and I had had with the twins, and trying to avoid the strange, soggy, droning doll (which must have once had a charm on it to make it talk that had long since been ruined by the pond water) that Fred was levitating above my head, I had been suddenly nudged by Ron. Confused I had turned to see Hermione standing alone by the gate. Sharing a look with Ron since we had expected Hermione to come today, she'd sent us an owl the day before, but not quite so early we ducked to avoid the manky boot the twins were now playing magical keepy ups with and headed towards her. It wasn't until we were almost at the gate that we realised she was crying.

"Hermione?" I asked gently, suddenly alarmed as I watched the tears roll down my friend's cheeks.

"What happened?" Ron asked before quickly opening the gate and standing by her side, looking like he wanted to comfort her but wasn't sure how.

"I…I…" Hermione sobbed "I did it. I didn't want to but I had to… now they're gone." She managed before dropping her head into her hands, Ron looked at me pleadingly and I hurried to Hermione's other side where I wrapped an arm around her and nodded for Ron to do the same.

"It's all right," I soothed, wracking my brains trying to figure out what Hermione was talking about. I then spotted her trunk and Crookshanks' cat carrier on the path behind her and remembered that we had decided that Hermione would move into the Burrow too, so that we could plan and wait for Harry to come on. "Hermione, what's happened, what did you do?" I asked as Ron awkwardly rubbed her arm and looked at her intently with such worry and tenderness that my heart throbbed painfully. I ignored it, my friend was more important.

"I m…modified my parents m…memory," she whimpered "they don't remember me any more, it's for the b…b…best I know, they've gone to Australia under different names…but still." Hermione gave up trying to regain her composure then and cried openly into her hands, feeling my face contort with understanding and upset for Hermione I rubbed her back soothingly, wanting to help her but knowing from my own experience that there was nothing anyone could say to make her feel better, not yet.

Sharing another glance with an equally sympathetic Ron who said "Come on, let's get you inside." To Hermione we started to lead our friend to the Burrow, her things floating behind us after a quick flick of my wand.

Hermione was fragile for the rest of the day, she barely spoke to anyone unless it was to thank them and even then she looked as though she might suddenly start to cry again. I understood how she felt completely, having done something similar to save my parents from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It wasn't an easy decision to make but the best one, but that was easy for me to say though I supposed, at least my parents still remembered me. But then again Hermione hadn't been lied to like I had so I supposed we were slightly more even. Hermione had been telling Ron and I for days that she had to do something for them and we agreed with her, we had just hoped it wouldn't hurt her so much as this had. Hermione's attempt to protect her family and my family's current situation had gotten Ron thinking too. After we went off in search of the Horcruxes, what was there to stop the Death Eaters from coming to the Burrow in search of information, it was a thought that terrified us all. After a few days thought Ron had come up with the perfect solution, with the help of Fred and George he would bewitch the ghoul in the attic to look a bit like him, so that if anyone came looking for him when he didn't turn up at school then his mum, who had found out that we weren't going back to Hogwarts and was firmly against it, would tell them Ron had spattergroit. A nasty wizarding infection that was highly contagious. And with that we had at least one thing sorted out; our families would all be safe in our absence.

Though Ron and I wouldn't have believed it possible before, things got even busier after Hermione arrived, and not just because the wedding was getting closer and the Order was planning on moving Harry from the Dursleys soon. Hermione had come out of her misery in the only way you'd expect from her, full of energy and determination, she'd spent the next few weeks nagging Ron and I to pack our things up so that we would be ready to leave at a moments notice and trying to plan out what we would do. She had turned all her energy towards making this mission of ours a success so much so that Ron and I could only stand there and be nervous.

However, I was fortunate enough to find an escape from that for a little while. A week after Hermione arrived I got a owl from Marcus and Carcia (the witch and wizard looking after my family) saying that Dumbledore once mentioned to them that he thought I might like to visit my parents this summer, and they were asking me if I would still want to. After only a moments pondering at how Dumbledore could have possibly known that and a skywards thank you to him, I hastily wrote a letter back explaining that I'd like nothing more than to visit my family. The next thing I knew I got an owl saying that Marcus would come to the Burrow that very evening to pick me up and I'd get to spend the whole week with my family, who I hadn't seen since Christmas. At the agreement of the Order and the encouragement of my friends (though Ron wasn't pleased he had to bear the brunt of Hermione's nervousness) I was ushered out of the Burrow and apparated to the safe house with Marcus to visit my family.

The trip wasn't very exciting, but it was exactly what I needed and I felt better after just an hour in my family's company, less worried, less hurt, less angry, it was as though the troubles of the past month and what was going to happen in the future melted away and none of it mattered any more. Though these things didn't leave me entirely, they stayed at the back of my mind, niggling away. However I did my best to ignore that. Everyone was fine, they missed home and their friends but they were all coping and I found myself incredibly proud of my family and sorry at the same time. They shouldn't have to go through this.

As the end of my visit grew nearer my parents started to act more worried about me, they'd heard quite a few things from Marcus and Carcia about what had happened at Hogwarts and they were frightened for me. I reassured them I'd be fine but Matt was harder to sway, he'd overheard Marcus cursing Malfoy for what he'd done and demanded that I explain why someone I had said was my friend would try to kill Dumbledore. In the end I had to tell Matt the truth, he was determined that he would know everything and, like my friends, I hated lying to my family, even though I'd do it without a moments hesitation if I had to and with the others, I had to. Matt was older and more likely to understand. I told him everything that happened between Malfoy and I because I knew he'd never leave it be otherwise. He didn't react well. To say he was mad would be an understatement, Matt looked as though he were ready to hunt Draco down and rip his head off but I made him promise to be good and not tell anyone, he agreed very reluctantly. After all their worrying later in the week everyone made a special effort on the last day to be twice as jovial and happy as usual to make up for it, however halfway though laughing at my sisters' dinner time antics I had a vision. It was my first vision since arriving at the safe house and my family were horrified to find the state I got into during my visions now and all panicked when I fainted. They'd never seen me react like that before; however, they weren't as scared as I was when I came back around.

In my vision I was on ridding on the back of a Threstral with someone else, rain fell harshly against my cheeks and it was freezing. The vision didn't last very long but it was long enough, as soon as I got my bearings on the Threstral I realised that we weren't alone up in the skies, that several dark, hooded figures surrounded us. Death Eaters. With a gasp I came back around, surrounded by my frightened family and breathing heavily. After reassuring everyone that I was fine and that this was normal I realised that I had had this vision before, after Dumbledore's funeral in the long vision of flashing scenes. Anxious I said goodbye to my family, realising with a horrible prang that this could be the last time that I ever saw them, and apparated back to the Burrow, with Carcia this time. She smiled at me and told me that she was coming in to talk to the Order, who were having a meeting at the time. As we walked in I heard them talking about their plans to retrieve Harry from the Dursleys' in a few nights time, they would be using brooms, Threstrals and Hagrid's motorbike to get Harry safely to the Burrow and avoid detection by the Trace. Not to mention the rain forecast to fall on the night in question, which would also be able to cover them. As soon as I heard the words 'Threstrals' and 'rain' I remembered my vision.

"You can't move Harry then," I said suddenly and every pair of eyes in the room shot to me, the Order, the Weasleys, Carcia, Fleur, Ron and Hermione. I didn't blush though; I just held my head high in determination, trying to look as credible as possible.

"Why is that?" Mad-Eye Moody asked from where he sat at the head of the table, detailing the plan.

"I had a vision," I said as Moody's electric blue eye inspected me "I saw myself ridding on the back of a Threstral in the rain at night and then suddenly there were Death Eaters all around me. I think it means they know when we're planning on moving Harry, it's not safe to go then."

The Order pondered my words and after a few questions like 'are you sure it was a vision?' and' it was definitely them?' they agreed that we'd have to move Harry on a different day. Opting for that coming Saturday the Order also decided to put some extra precautions in place, such as using Polyjuice potion to confuse any Death Eater that should show up and setting a false trail for the Death Eaters to follow, leading them away from the new date.

And here we were, flying out to Harry's aunt and uncle's house on brooms, Threstrals and Sirius' old motorbike, about to undertake to difficult task of getting Harry to safety. It was hard not to feel edgy as I sat on the Threstral with Bill, given the scenes in my vision, but I had done all that I could to prevent it and it wasn't raining now like it had been in my vision, so I told myself I'd be fine and focused on other things. Ron, Hermione and I couldn't wait to have Harry with us, even if we had to keep him safe first; we'd all missed him terribly. It hadn't seemed right to us, sitting up in Ron's room and trying to plan without him. Not that Mrs. Weasley gave us much chance to plan, ever since she found out that we weren't going back to Hogwarts next year she had been trying to keep us apart in the hopes we'd give up our plans. I could see her reasoning and I didn't blame her at all, she thought of the lot of us as her family and I felt bad for having to do this to her, but there simply wasn't another way.

"Almost there," Bill told me over the sound of the wind rushing past my ears and I looked up from the ground.

"Alright," I called back, holding myself straighter on the Threstral and preparing myself, we didn't know what to expect. If I was Voldemort (shudder) and my arch enemy was being kept somewhere I couldn't touch him, but I knew that he would be moved soon I knew for a fact that I'd have someone watching the building, just in case, and I would be surprised if we didn't come across a Death Eater sentry. That would be the best case scenario of course, the worst case scenario would be that we had been betrayed by one of our own and they were all already waiting for us. Feeling my wand pressing against my thigh through my jeans pocket, I hoped for the best.

My stomach lurched a little and I noticed that we were losing height, looking down I spotted a small cluster of lights I took to be the village of Little Whinging. Here we go, I thought as we descended and I held onto Bill a little tighter with my left arm and pressed my right to my jeans pocket, just in case. Everything went fine though, we weren't attacked and there wasn't so much a dark cloaked figure in sight. Landing in the very tidy garden of one of the houses there everyone lifted their Disillusionment Charms and popped back into existence. Looking to my right I watched as Hermione, who really didn't like flying, was lifted pale faced from the other Threstral by Kingsley; she gave me a sheepish smile which I returned with a little laugh. Dismounting from the Threstral Bill and I made our way over to the others just as Harry's back door flew open and out dashed the man himself.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid asked from where he stood by the motorbike "ready fer the off?"

"Definitely," Harry answered without a moment's hesitation, as anxious to leave this house as I had been to leave my old Primary school, which made perfect sense. Grinning widely at us all he said "but I wasn't expecting this many of you!" In a way that suggested he wasn't upset by the turn out.

"Couldn't stay away," I joked having missed my friend, there was a murmur of pleasant laughter and then Moody said seriously,

"Change of plan, lets get undercover before we talk you through it."

And with that Harry led the way into the Dursley's house, the back door opened up into the kitchen and I couldn't help but notice how clean it was in there, Harry hadn't been exaggerating when he said his aunt was a neat freak. Every surface shone with cleanliness and there wasn't a thing out of place as far as I could see, well apart from all of us of course, we didn't belong somewhere like this. Leaning against the kitchen table the twins were now sat at I waited for Moody to say something but Harry spoke first.

"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minster?" he asked as Hermione lent against the cabinet by his side.

"He can get along without me for one night," Kingsley said with a warm smile "you're more important."

"Harry, guess what?" Tonks said from where she sat atop the washing machine, I watched as my pink haired friend waved her left hand at Harry and caught sight of the glittering ring there. I smiled as Harry's eyes widened and Lupin grinned at Harry sheepishly.

"You got married?" Harry exclaimed his gaze flicking between the newlyweds questioningly.

"I'm sorry you couldn't be there, Harry," Lupin apologised, him having said the same thing to the rest of us I expected it. Very few people had even known they were going to get married. I didn't mind that I hadn't gone and I doubted Harry would either, I was just happy for them both. "It was very quiet."

"That's brilliant, congrat-" Harry started but was cut across by Moody, who looked impatient.

"All right, all right, we'll have the time for a cosy catch up later!" he shouted over the sound of everyone talking, since all the others had taken this as an excuse to strike up their own conversations. Behind me the twins were tapping the buttons on the microwave to make it beep and Mr. Weasley was inspecting the house phone with a keen interest. Everyone fell silent at Moody's words and turned back to look at him.

"As Dedalus probably told you," Moody said to Harry "we had to abandon plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He's made it an imprisonable offence to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here or Apparate in or out. All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, seeing as your mother's charm does that already. What he's really done is to stop you getting out of here safely."

"Second problem: you're under-age, which means you've still got the Trace on you." Moody continued but a confused Harry interrupted.

"I don't-" he said but Moody cut across him again.

"The Trace, the Trace!" he urged, though Harry looked none the wiser "the charm that detects magical activity around the under-seventeens, the way the Ministry finds out about under-age magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters. We can't wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen you'll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short, Thicknesse thinks he's got you cornered good and proper."

"So what are we going to do?" An anxious looking Harry asked.

"We're going to use the only modes of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells on them: brooms, threstals and Hagrid's motorbike. We're moving you before the trace breaks. We wanted do it the other day, like we originally planned, but Jones here had a vision that made us change days." Moody said as he jerked his thumb in my direction, Harry looked at me questioningly and I shrugged.

"I saw Death Eater's attacking us in the air, despite everything we were planning to do to stay safe. But it was raining in my vision; it isn't tonight so we ought to be fine now we've changed days." I said more to reassure everyone, since all eyes were now on me, than anything else, since I still knew it was better to be safe than sorry were Death Eaters were concerned.

Moody then went on to explain to Harry that we were breaking his mother's charm early because the only other alternative was to do it on his birthday, when Voldemort would surely be waiting to descend on the house and attack Harry. He then told Harry about all the other protective measures the Order had put in place, like the fake trail in which the Ministry thought Harry was leaving on the thirtieth and not today. Also he explained that just in case the Death Eaters were watching they had given twelve different houses intense amounts of protection implying that any one of them could be the house Harry was heading for. Seeing a supposed hole in the plan Harry then pointed out that while this was all fine and good, wouldn't the Death Eaters only have to follow Harry to know which house he was going to, at which point Moody told him the final part of the plan. Seven of our number would be drinking Polyjuice potion and flying around looking like Harry to confuse the Death Eaters.

"No!" Harry protested, reacting exactly like Hermione, Ron and I had expected him to. We knew he wouldn't like the idea of people endangering themselves for him, because it certainly would be dangerous to look like Harry if the Death Eaters did appear. Though that said, they wouldn't be aiming to kill those that looked like him, their master wanted to be the one to finish Harry and they wouldn't want to anger him. "No way!"

"I told them you'd take it like this," Hermione said with a touch of smugness.

"If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives- !" Harry continued to rant, all but oblivious to the fact that not one of us cared.

"- because it's a first time for all of us." Ron drawled.

"Yep," I agreed sarcastically, this was just like at the end of last year when Harry was trying to go off on his own to find the Horcruxes, he still didn't understand that we were in this with him, that we'd risk our lives to protect him "we've never done anything dangerous before, us."

"This is different, pretending to be me – " Harry spluttered and Fred rolled his eyes.

"Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry," Fred told him "imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever." Harry set his lips in a firm line but the rest of us chuckled at bit at that.

"You can't do it if I don't cooperate; you need me to give you some hair." Harry said firmly, folding his arms across his chest and looking determined.

"Well, that's the plan scuppered," George intoned "obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate."

"Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance." Fred said toying with his wand meaningfully.

The argument went on like that for a little while longer, Harry didn't want to back down and obviously hated the idea of us putting ourselves in danger for him but he had no choice, we were all over age and we'd all made our decision. So, a few more threats, sarcastic comments, a growl from Moody and a few 'just do it' looks on our part later, Harry reluctantly pulled some hairs from his head and deposited them into Moody's flask of potion.

"We'll be fine," I said quietly to a dejected looking Harry as the potion began to smoke and froth. Harry just let out a noise of passive agreement that told me he didn't really believe what I had said.

"Ooh," Hermione said drawing my attention to the potion that had now turned from muddy brown to a brilliant gold "you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry."

I laughed then, catching a double meaning there but privately agreeing with Hermione, the shiny golden potion that would make us look like Harry appeared a lot nicer than the ones we had drunk in our second year. Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione who rolled her eyes "oh, you know what I mean – Goyle's Potion looked like bogies."

"That it did," I agreed "this cant be as bad as Parkinson's at least," I said looking at the potion, remembering how I had taken a hair from Parkinson in our second year to put in Polyjuice potion so that I could sneak into the Slytherin common room with the others. "That was like drinking liquefied soot." I observed with a shudder at the memory, not pleasant.

"Right then, fake Potter's line up over hear, please." Moody called and Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and I stood in single file before him.

"Were one short." Said Lupin from where he stood beside an unhappy Harry, who was watching us all with worry.

"Here," Hagrid said as he lifted Mundrungus up by the scuff of his neck and dropped him into line behind me. The smell coming off him turned my stomach but I didn't move, I just turned away from the cowardly wizard and looked at Ron and Hermione.

"I've toldjer, I'd sooner be a protector," Mundrungus insisted, obviously terrified.

Having none of Mundrungus' cowardliness Moody growled "shut it," irritably before forcibly telling him what I had already reasoned, that those pretending to be Harry would be the safest of all of us tonight, since no Death Eater would want to risk the wrath of their master by killing Harry. Mundrungus looked far from reassured but no one really cared, Moody was already pulling half a dozen shot glasses from inside his cloak and filling them with Polyjuice potion. He then began to hand them out. Taking my serving of the gold liquid I eyed it for a moment, wondering if it would feel as bad to turn into Harry as it had to Parkinson and knowing that it probably would, the discomfort had been the potion at work and had nothing to do with personality like the taste had.

"Altogether then…" Moody said and without any hesitation at all I gave the others one quick glance and downed the potion.

**Author note: so yeah, I'm not very happy with this chapter, I dislike it; it was supposed to be more exciting than this but as if the norm with me, this has turned out longer than intended so what happens next will have to be another chapter. Sigh, but what am I gunna do about it? Anyway, feedback is always welcome; please let me know what you think.**

**Oh and while I' here, I'd like to make a recommendation. If you don't already I would, suggest that you start to read Civia Snape's Harry Potter fic: 'the tale of Civia Potter'. It is set during Harry's sixth year and follows his aunt Civia who takes up the post of potions mistress that year, it is an absolutely stunning fic and I love the way it's written and its slowly building, but adorable, romance. So yeah, I'd recommend that you read it if you get the chance. :)**

**Anonymous review reply:**

**Maddy: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you liked it and pleased that you found it addictive. Your comments were fair, I do have problems with my spelling and paragraph length and I can only hope that this chapter is better, I have made a conscious effort. However I do appreciate your comments, constructive criticism is always welcome as it helps to make you a better writer, which is what all of us want. Also I am thrilled that you like the way I portray Draco. So thanks! :)**


	3. The struggle in the skies

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this chapter other than Ivy Jones, or any of the concepts of ideas from the books, or the quotes borrowed to make this chapter fit in with the book, they all belong to the brilliant JK Rowling.**

**Chapter three: The Struggle In The Skies.**

**Ivy**

**Still a few weeks ago**

Harry's Polyjuice Potion tasted of caramel, but not in a way that made the potion thick or sickly, it was just a hint of taste that made the drinking of the potion actually quite pleasant. As the potion travelled down my throat and I handed Moody back the shot glass, I looked around at the others who had also taken it. Fred and George shared a look and shrugged at each other with a chorus of 'not bad', Mundungus was still looking apprehensive and Ron and Hermione looked at me, seeming content but knowing full well what was to come. And then the potion took effect. Suddenly my stomach began to twist and coil as though excited snakes were wriggling through my insides. Several of the other soon-to-be Harry's wrapped their arms around their waists and pulled alarmed expressions. I didn't, I was used to this level of unpleasantness, especially in the pit of my stomach, it had been my constant companion since June, and so I didn't mind it much. However, when my skin began to bubble I did react. Lifting my arms outwards I watched as my skin bubbled like hot wax and began to change, feeling the writhing in my stomach getting even worse and my legs beginning to ache.

"Bloody Hell!" Mundungus exclaimed as his face began to shift and change.

I watched as his sagging features firmed and began to change into Harry's and then all of a sudden I began to shoot upwards, my legs lengthening to Harry's height. Around me Hermione and Mundungus were also growing, while Ron, Fred and George were all shrinking. The pain of the transformation and my gasp joined the groans of agony and discomfort the others were giving off, the ache of my writhing insides making me want to double over myself in an effort to lessen the pain. Feeling extremely uncomfortable I felt the weight of my mahogany hair lessen on my shoulders as it grew shorter and shorter, my scalp burning a little as it did so, and I watched as a brown lock shifted to black before my eyes, as it receded to my head.

One moment I was watching the same thing happen to Hermione and seeing the boys' bright red hair suddenly darken, and then the next everything was just a blur, my eyes strained and then all I could see was the fuzzy coloured shapes of those in front of me. I squinted in an automatic effort to clear things up, only to gasp when the transformation was competed and a quick flash of mild pain spread across my forehead, which I guessed now bore the same lightning shaped scar as Harry's.

"Blimey," I breathed as the bubbling subsided and my eyesight cleared enough for me to see a little better "this is a bit different."

"Just a bit," Harry affirmed from behind me, sounding thoroughly weirded out, which was understandable really, since he was looking at six clones of himself.

"Wow – we're identical!" Said the two blurry Harry's over by the kitchen table, in unison.

"I dunno, though," said Fred, turning and glancing into the kettle behind him "I still think I'm better-looking."

Chuckling I turned as Moody's gravely voice said "those whose clothes are a bit roomy, I've got smaller here," as he gestured towards a sack on the floor "and vice versa. Don't forget the glasses, there's six pairs in the side pocket. And when you're dressed, there's luggage in the other sack."

Making my way carefully towards the sack that held the larger robes, I squinted through Harry's eyes, hoping that I wouldn't fall over anything and that I'd be able to get out of these robes soon, since there were rather tight now. Grabbing a new set of robes from the sack I quickly changed, glad of my… err, Harry's poor eye sight because I was sure that the sight of Harry without his clothes on was, as a friend, a sight I could live quite happily without, even if it was really me and not Harry. Once dressed in more comfortable robes I opened up a pair of glasses that matched Harry's completely and put them on, the relief of being able to see was instant. The room cleared up and once again I could see everyone with crystal clear clarity.

"I knew Ginny was lying about the tattoo," Ron said looking down at his bare chest, which was now identical to Harry's and I grinned when I though of how Ginny had once told the other girls that Harry had a hippogriff tattooed to his chest. It was such a ridiculous notion, but they had believed her.

"Harry," Hermione said as she peered out into the room, struggling before she put on her pair of glasses "your eyesight really is awful."

I grinned at the, slightly red-faced, real Harry, trying to reassure him but also trying not to laugh, as he looked pretty embarrassed, before pulling a rucksack and a cage from the other sack, examining the stuffed snowy owl before setting it down on the floor. Right then, it looked like we were ready.

"Good," Moody said as he inspected the six of us, identical in every visible way to the real Harry. "The pairs will be as follows: Mundungus will be travelling with me, by broom -"

"Why'm I with you?" asked the Harry I took to be Mundungus, looking pretty bothered by Moody's grouping.

"Because you're the one that needs watching," Moody said without hesitation, his voice leaving no room for further argument "Arthur and Fred - " Moody said pointing to another Harry.

"I'm George," said one of the Weasley twins before adding in a shocked voice, "can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?"

"Sorry George," Moody apologised, looking like he was anxious to continue with the list and head on with the mission.

"I'm only yanking your wand," the twin laughed as the other sniggered "I am Fred really-"

"Enough messing around!" Moody roared "the other one – George or Fred or whoever you are – you're with Remus. Miss Jones is with Bill on Thestral," at that Bill flashed me a smile and a thumbs up which I returned "and Miss Granger is with Kingsley, again by Thestral." Hermione smiled pleasantly at Kingsley, who I knew she felt safe with, and I also knew from our earlier conversation that she was glad not to be going by broom.

"Which leaves you and me, Ron!" Tonks said happily, knocking over a mug-tree in her excitement, laughing at Ron's expression I went to help her righten it. My completely unfazed, pink haired friend winked at me as she picked up a newly chipped mug. Which made me think that she knew Ron was less than comforted by being her partner, and the pair of us grinned as we turned back to the others.

"An' you're with me, Harry," said Hagrid "we'll be on the bike, brooms an' Thestrals can't take me weight, see. 'Not a lot of room on the seat with me on it, though, so you'll be in the sidecar."

"That's great," Harry told an anxious looking Hagrid, who brightened at that, though from the edge to Harry's voice I could tell he wasn't exactly being truthful. He had probably hoped that he would be on a broom.

"We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom," Moody explained "Snape's had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he's never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, we're betting they'll choose one of the Potters who look at home on a broomstick. All right then," Moody said as he began to tie up the sacks "I make it three minutes until we're supposed to leave. No point locking the back door, it won't keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking…come on…"

Feeling increasingly more anxious I walked by Tonks' side as we headed towards the back door and Harry went to pick up his stuff. I didn't know why I was suddenly worried, I supposed that it was a natural reaction to doing something as important as this; I didn't want to mess up and to let Harry get hurt, so maybe this feeling was nothing. However, by now I knew that these feelings I got were very rarely nothing, and so decided to keep a keen eye on the darkness when we started to fly. Determined that I should do my best here I joined Bill by the side of our Thestral, before accepting a leg up from him and getting on its back. Bill was sat in front of me when Harry came out and we were all ready to go.

Looking to my right I spotted a nervous looking Hermione, whose gaze kept flicking towards Harry, who was now settling himself in the sidecar of Sirius' old motorbike. She met my gaze and asked "have you seen anything?"

I shook my head "No, not since I was with my family."

She nodded but didn't look any more reassured, meanwhile I was wondering. Not only had I not seen anything more about what would happen tonight, I hadn't had a single vision at all since I was at the safe house, not even a trivial one, which was really strange, since I was usually plagued by pointless visions.

"All right then," Moody called pulling me from my thoughts, on an impulse I took my wand from my pocket, just in case. "Everyone ready, please; I want us to leave at exactly the right time or the whole point of the diversion's lost."

"Hold on tight," Bill said and a little cautiously, since he was Fleur's fiancée, I wrapped my left arm firmly around his waist, quelling comparisons between him and the last guy I'd been this close to before they even had the chance to form properly in my mind. My right held my wand and right now I was also holding the ring, which hung from a chain around my neck, tightly in that hand. Subconsciously drawing strength from it and feeling my heart pound anxiously in my chest.

"Good luck, everyone," Moody shouted and I let go of the ring, which landed heavily against my heart, and wrapped my wand arm around Bill's waist as well. "See you all in about an hour at the Burrow."

Feeling increasingly more worried and suddenly not wanting to take flight at all since I now had an unexpected desire for us all to remain on the ground, I looked at my friends. Hermione looked anxious as well, Ron seemed a little awkward with his hands on Tonks' waist and Harry looked thoughtful, however, every single one of them had an expression of determination of their faces. Taking that into me I sat a little straighter on the Thestral and pushed aside all reluctant thoughts, we were doing this. I had to be ready.

"On the count of three." Moody called "one…two…THREE."

The motorbike gave a gigantic roar as it shot upwards; the Thestral I was riding gave a sudden lurch and with a massive beat of its wings, shot upwards. Higher and higher we rose, the others climbing up into the night around us. Frantic I started to look around, trying to appease the sudden fear that consumed me. I was terrified for no obvious reason, my heart was hammering painfully in my chest and my breathing was suddenly erratic. Something was wrong, I was sure of it. Staring out from behind Harry's glasses I scanned the darkness with keen precision, trying to remember, as I did, if I had had any other visions about us evacuating Harry. I needn't have bothered though, for the moment we finished our assent not one of us could miss what was waiting for us there. Death Eaters. There were at least thirty of them forming a loose circle around us, around Harry's old house, waiting for us. Just like in my vision.

I didn't have a chance to think any more than that, because at that moment each Death Eater took aim and red and green jets of light flew through the air towards us all. I felt my newly greened eyes widen in horror, my lips part in shock and my heart plummet as I stared out at the circle of hooded figures. Time seemed to slow down then, only for a moment so that my mind could capture, in perfect clarity, the terror of each detail of their presence here. We were all in serious danger now.

"Hold on!" Bill shouted as time retuned to normal and I had only just the time to tighten my grip around his waist, before the Thestral dived suddenly. Pressing my cheek against Bill's leather jacket clad back, I felt that awful falling sensation and knew my stomach had been left back up with the Death Eaters. Spells were sent after us as we dived and Bill guided the Thestral to fly abruptly right to avoid them, a jet of green light whizzed past my left ear and I turned to look back up at them.

The circle of Death Eaters had split up now, separating so that they could chase after us all, dividing up into groups. Panic flooded through me as I looked back, watching as the murderous monsters chased after my friends, my heart ached with worry for them and I stared in horror as they carried on firing spells at the people I cared about. Bill altered our course so that we were heading back in the direction we were supposed to go, north, avoiding another jet as he did so, and meanwhile I followed my friends with my gaze.

On their brooms Mr. Weasley and Fred were heading east, dodging oncoming spells and sending a few back to their pursuers, Lupin and George meanwhile were heading west and had about five Death Eaters on their tail. Tonks and Ron where heading south, their outlines going fainter and fainter as we sped in the opposite direction. Harry and Hagrid were also zooming off, Hagrid mercifully putting his foot down and trying to get Harry away, though Death Eaters still pursued them. I was sure that I could hear my dark-haired friend shouting over the cries of the others. Oh God. I thought as fear gripped me tight and I started to panic, my wits leaving me as I watched my friends in danger, and then Bill swerved abruptly to avoid another curse, shocking me from my thoughts. I came to my senses then, my head cleared a little and while my fear didn't subside at all, I knew that I needed to focus now. How else could I help anyone?

The Death Eaters weren't leaving Bill and I alone either, there were about a dozen of them flying along after us and I realised that that had to have something to do with the fact that Mad-Eye and Mundungus were flying along with us, also heading north. It was fairly obvious to me why they were following him, as the most experienced and renowned Auror here they would expect Moody to be in charge of guarding the real Harry. This reasoning made perfect sense to me, but didn't do me any favours. The twelve hooded figures followed after us as we left the others behind and followed the plan.

Flying a bit off to our left Moody and Mundungus shot spell after spell into the group of Death Eaters following us, all of which our pursuers managed to dodge until Mad-Eye shot a red jet of light over his shoulder and it hit one square in the chest. I watched, stunned myself for a moment, as the Death Eater jerked as the spell hit him before going still and sliding sideways off his broom, falling to the ground and to his death. None of his fellows made so much as a move to help him, they were too fixed on their mission, so much so that I doubted that they even noticed he had been hit.

Was it wrong of me to feel sorry for him? Surely it was, since they were trying to kill us, but I couldn't help it, I was still horrified to see a man die, no mater what kind of man he was. He will have deserved it, I told myself firmly as my mind started to wander but it was too late, I couldn't deter my thoughts and suddenly I was wondering who it was behind those grotesque Death Eater masks. As I held onto Bill tightly I felt my gaze flit from Death Eater to Death Eater, wondering who they were, feeling my battered heart hammer against my chest as I imagined a pale white face and bond-haired boy underneath one of those hoods. In my mind his bright blue eyes narrowed and his soft lips curled into a cruel and twisted smile, my heart heaved unpleasantly and I shied away from the horrible image. It doesn't matter, I told myself as I blinked profusely to clear the picture from my mind, since I couldn't bear to look at it. It doesn't matter who they are, they were Death Eaters and they would kill us if I didn't try and stop them. It didn't matter to me if he's one of them. Except that it did.

Suddenly furious at the way I was feeling and the direction my thoughts had turned, my head snapped to face the Death Eaters, ready to take my anger at myself out on them.

"Rictusempra!" I cast, putting my thoughts into action and aiming my spell at one of the nearer Death Eaters. He swerved out of the way and avoided the tickling spell, which was tame I had to admit, but I really didn't want to kill any one despite what I thought. However, while I missed my target the spell did do something as it threw him off course for a moment.

I had made my choice in June, I continued to tell myself sternly, and so had he. If Draco Malfoy was hiding behind one of those masks then it was no concern of mine, I would still duel him. I'd do it happily, I thought adamantly, I was desperate to get back at him for all he had done to me and this could be the perfect opportunity. Holding my head a little higher I set my jaw in determination, I had a mission to complete; I had to be a diversion for Harry and if I decommissioned a few Death Eaters along the way then all the better. They were all vile creatures. Bill steered the Thestral to the left suddenly to avoid another jet, and determined to do my part and keep the Death Eaters from getting at us I took aim again at the group following us.

"Rictusempra!" I shouted, gritting my teeth in agitation when the Death Eater I was aiming at swerved and avoid the spell. This was my choice, I continued to tell myself, and I wasn't going to let any sympathetic emotions keep me from fighting against Voldemort. However, dedicated though I was to what I was doing, I wasn't going to lose my morals, I wasn't going to aim to kill anyone.

"Langlock," I muttered, my face set in determination and hoping to take the Death Eaters by surprise since I didn't shout the spell; however my target still saw the silencing charm coming his way and ducked to avoid it. "Langlock!" I repeated, aiming at him again and desperate for this spell to hit, since if it did and he couldn't speak anymore and he couldn't do nonverbal magic, then he wouldn't be much of a threat. However, in my aggravated state I sent the spell wide and he didn't even have to move to miss the spell.

"Rictusempra," I said, now trying to bombard the Death Eaters, who were gaining on us, their own spells only missing us by inches, with Moody and Mundungus, who were still firing spell after spell at the Death Eaters. Our attempts were doing us little good though, so far the only spell that had hit its target had been Moody's and while we were one Death Eater down the others showed no sigh of slowing, they looked ready to chase us the length and breadth of Britain on the off chance one of us was Harry.

"Finite Incantatem!" I cried as one of the nearest Death Eaters, hot on our heels, sent a curse at me that looked as though it would hit. It didn't though and the curse flew wide. Chest heaving I quickly glanced ahead of us, looking in the direction we were going and half hoping to see something that would tell me we were nearly there; I didn't see anything though, so I turned frustrated, back to look at the Death Eaters, feeling my blood run cold in my veins as I did. They were not alone.

"Oh God," I whispered as my eyes went wide and fear gripped my battered heart.

It was no longer only the Death Eaters chasing us through the night, their master had joined the hunt now too, gliding eerily through the open air without anything to hold him up, his cloak billowing behind him like horrible black wings and his pale face twisted in malice. He reminded me of a Dementor, as he glided menacingly towards us and sucked all happy thoughts away. Slowly, anger started to break though my fear at the sight of him, anger at what he had put people through, at how he had wanted to kidnap me and use me to win his war, at the lives he had ruined. However, my hand still trembled as I raised my wand, he was fast heading towards the four of us though, and I had to defend us.

Off to the side I noticed that Mundungus had frozen, fear paralysing him to the spot with a look of absolute terror on his face, Moody on the other hand was now giving it his all, hardly looking where he was going as he shot spell after spell at Voldemort and the Death Eaters. My gaze leaving the others I looked again at Voldemort and took aim as the snake like man deflected another of Moody's spells. However when I felt that I had a good shot Bill suddenly urged the Thestral upwards, jerking with the fast movement I had only just the time to see a spell sail through where my head had been, just second before.

"Keep an eye on them as well." Bill advised as he shot a spell around me and went back to urging the Thestral on.

A little stunned but recovering quickly I felt my gaze flick back to Voldemort, blood boiling I turned away again, I knew I had to leave him to Moody. He was the only one who stood a chance against him anyway. So, gritting my teeth, I took aim at the dozen or so Death Eaters following us instead and shot spell after spell into their midst, keeping the approaching monster in the corner of my eye and trying not to panic as he got closer and closer. From our vantage point higher above and ahead of the Death Eaters, firing spells at them was a lot easier; they were harder pressed to avoid them now even though they still outnumbered us greatly. However, that was where the good news ended.

"Argh!" I heard someone yelped in outright fear and instinctively my head snapped in the direction of Mundungus and Moody, panicked and just in time to see Mundungus disapparate. Growling with fury Moody grabbed out at thin air a split second too late and Mundungus got away, leaving Moody alone. And then I realised why he'd run. Voldemort had caught up with us and had been making a beeline for Moody, since it was most likely that Harry would be with him. However, he wasn't the only thing heading towards Moody.

I cried out as a jet of green light collided with Mad-Eye's face, lighting his whole body momentarily green, making him a stark contrast against the night sky. The most skilled Auror was still as he fell from his broom, Voldemort's curse killing him instantly, and Bill and I watched in shocked horror as Moody disappeared into the darkness below, too high up to swoop down and catch him in time.

Bill and I sat in silence for a moment, hardly able to comprehend what we had just seen and numb with shock. For a moment the steady beat of the Thestral's wings were the only sound that I could hear, not one other noise reached my ears. And then, feeling my numbness begin to crack, I turned, still open mouthed, to look at Voldemort, whose red-eyed gaze was now trained on us. With the spells of Death Eaters still whooshing around me I met Voldemort's gaze, feeling no fear at all as I stared into his evil eyes, only hatred. Hand trembling for an entirely different reason now, I took aim on Voldemort and drew in a breath to fire a spell; however, he had already dismissed me as a potential Harry and was gilding away, towards a new target.

Suddenly fearful I muttered "No," as he sped off and then shouted "Stupefy!" in an attempt to stop him, it failed though as he was already too far away and the spell missed. Trembling I stared after the monster. "Bill," I murmured as my partner manoeuvred us through the night sky "he's going after the others." I said, hysteria leaking into my voice as I thought of Moody and then my friends, how many more people would we lose tonight?

"I know," Bill said, his voice thick with emotion and I knew he was as upset as I was, probably more so because he had been close to Moody and most of his family were out here. "But we've got to keep going, we're almost there now and we've got to stick to the plan." Because that's what Mad-Eye would have wanted, I thought, knowing that Bill was probably thinking that too. And letting the words hang there in my mind for a moment, I turned back to face the Death Eaters who still pursued us.

"Impedimenta!" I roared, tears stinging at my eyes and clouding my vision. I aimed my spell right into the middle of the Death Eater group, since we still flew higher up than they did, so that every single on of them had to scatter to avoid being hit by the spell or one of their fellows.

Regrouping the Death Eaters swept upwards and I aimed spells at them as they did, not one hit target but it slowed them down and gave them something to think about. Meanwhile I was doing my best not to think, not to allow myself to dwell on the fact that we'd never see Moody again, or that my friends were in mortal danger right now, because I needed to be focused, I needed the anger without the worry to be useful here. Feeling the wind blowing through my cropped hair, and the chill of it hitting the tear tracks running down my cheeks, I set my face in a firm line and shot spell after spell at the Death Eaters as Bill tried to get us to safety. Adrenalin and fury pumping through my veins as much as blood I chanced a look over Bill's shoulder in the direction we were heading, but still couldn't see anything I recognised so I returned to the Death Eaters.

However, I thought I must have turned too quickly as when I went to aim another spell my head started to suddenly spin. I chalked it up to stress and fear and tried to ignore it, however when the dizziness only got worse and my eyesight started to blur I knew it was much more than nausea. I was having a vision.

"Bill!" I called as I felt myself slipping into the vision and I grabbed hold of his jacket, terrified that I was going to fall off the Thestral. I had no control over my body once my second sight took over and I wouldn't be able to keep myself up right without help.

"What is it?" Bill shouted in panic as I started to sway and my grip around his waist with my left arm loosened. Knowing of my 'gift' Bill took one look at me over his shoulder and grabbed a hold of me, just in time as an otherworldly breeze drifted across the very front of my brain and the world faded to total blackness.

Numbing I disconnected from the real world, from the cries of the Death Eaters, from Bill telling me I'd be alright, from the night wind blowing through my temporarily cropped hair and the frightened beating of my heart. All my senses were numb until a new scene exploded before my minds eye, filling up my remaining senses and encompassing me in a scenario that wasn't happening yet. After that instant of darkness while my minds eye opened, every sound, smell and feeling that I had had only a second before, returned to me. I was still on the back of the Thestral with Bill and we were still trying desperately to escape the Death Eaters, only now Bill wasn't struggling to keep both off us on the Thestral and steer clear of the monsters following us. Instead I was turning away from him again, different thoughts running through my head, worries about if I was skilled enough to keep us both safe consuming me, I faced the Death Eaters.

I was about to aim my wand at a Death Eater to the right of their group, a burly looking man whose hood had fallen back, when one of the nearer ones shot a spell at Bill and I. He dodged it easily, guiding the Thestral to the side and keeping us both safe, however, exactly as he was doing that another Death Eater aimed a curse at us. I didn't have the time to react, I was too stunned to do anything and for a moment I was sure I was going to die. A jet of green light was speeding towards me with nothing to stop it and I was sure it was going to hit me. My heart froze in my chest, paralyzed by fear just like the rest of me, my eyes widened and I sucked in a painful breath, expecting the curse to hit me any second. It didn't though. The jet of green light sailed straight over my head, rustling my hair it was so close to me.

Relief washed over my in waves and I felt my eyes flutter shut and my breath whoosh out of me, that had been a close one, I thought as I dropped my head back against Bill's back, intending to get back to duelling in a second. However, as soon as my head tapped Bill's back he slumped suddenly forwards. Shock flooding though me as I nearly fell; I turned my wide eyes quickly to see what had happened and what I saw there devastated me. Bill was laying forwards, face against the Thestral's mane, motionless, arms hanging limply either side of the Thestral's neck, dead.

A gasp so sharp that I thought the air was actually being ripped from my lungs, accompanied my return to reality. Sucking in lungfuls of air quickly to replace what I'd lost I was hardly aware of anything for a moment until I got enough oxygen in me. Recovering but still panicky I looked up at a worried Bill, who was looking at me over his shoulder as he gripped at me with his left arm, still trying to keep me from falling.

"You alright?" He asked me over the sound of the whooshing wind. A little dazed, I nodded and he let go of me, looking reluctant to do so since he probably thought the second he did I would fall.

"Bill," I said hoarsely looking between the older Weasley and the Death Eaters behind us, my vision about him branded on my minds eye and filling me with fear. However, my voice was so quiet thanks to my numbness and the sound of the wind so loud that he hadn't heard me.

He needed to know what I had seen though. I had seen Bill dead, because of a spell sent at us here tonight, sometime between now and when we reached our destination and in my vision there had been nothing I could do to stop it and no clue as to when it would happen. I needed to tell him, so that he would be careful, but how do you go about telling someone that you'd had a vision of their death? And what if he reacted badly to it and by telling him I made the event come about? Terrified that I was going to lose another friend, I sat there as the Death Eaters shot spells around us for a moment before mentally slapping myself. What was wrong with me? Why on Earth was I worrying about the what if's when Bill's life was in danger? This wasn't me, I had to act to protect him, I would not let him die.

"Bill," I said louder than before, as I turned to face the Death Eaters, blocking one of their spells and wondering if I would be able to protect the both of us. "Bill, I need to tell you what I saw…" I called over the noise, feeling him turn to look at me. However, I cut off mid sentence and wide eyed as one of the nearer Death Eaters aimed a curse at us and Bill abruptly swerved the Thestral out of its path, seeing it because he was looking at me. We moved exactly the way we had in my vision.

Looking into the crowd of Death Eaters I knew exactly what was coming next as another on raised his wand "Get down!" I yelled just as he sent to spell, spinning back to face Bill and pushing him forwards onto the Thestral.

Face pressed against a shocked Bill's jacket I felt the Killing Curse wiz over my head, rustling my hair, and heaved a sigh of relief. Sitting back up Bill and I shared a look, he had seen the jet of green light shooting off into the distance and must have realised it would have hit him. Bill looked as though he wanted to thank me but didn't have the chance as the Death Eaters were still bombarding us with spells and I returned to duelling them while Bill carried on steering.

Exhausted, worried and slowly losing energy I continued to fire spells at the Death Eaters that were chasing us and block their attacks for another five minutes before they stopped suddenly in mid air, their brooms jerking violently as though they had banged into something. Surprised I looked away from the furious looking Death Eaters to Bill, who smiled at me sadly and said,

"We've just gone through the protective shield, we're safe now."

Sighing in relief I nodded to him as we came to land, however I couldn't seem to calm myself down and still felt very alert and anxious, though I was sure that was because I was still worried about my friends. Turning back to that I was facing the right way I looked down at the Burrow, feeling immense relief at the sight of it and noticing a few figures dotted about the yard. Wondering who was there and what had happened to them I urged the Thestral onwards with my mind, not that it made it go any faster, I just really wanted to see my friends right now. Pulling my once again midlength, brown hair from my damp cheek, I tried to appear strong as me landed in the yard with a thump.

"Bill! Thank God, thank God -" Mrs Weasley cried as we dismounted and she and Fleur both ran forwards to hug Bill.

"Ivy!" Hermione shouted and then she, Ron and Harry were all by my side, giving me hugs that I gratefully accepted, needing them a lot right then.

"Mad-Eye's dead," Bill said gravely, one arm around his fiancée's waist as he looked out at the others, his eyes dark with upset.

Silence fell on the group then, everyone in the yard, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Tonks (who also gave me a comforting hug), Lupin, Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny stared in numb shock. Feeling my eyes prickle again but also wondering about the hopefully living, I wondered where Fred, George and Kingsley were. My friends didn't give me a chance to ask though and instead looked at me questioningly, asking me with their eyes to confirm what Bill had said but at the same time not wanting to. I nodded at them sadly.

"We saw it," I confirmed.

"Mad-Eye and Dung were close by us, they were heading north too. Voldemort – he can fly – went straight for them. Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he disapparated. Voldemort's curse hit Mad-Eye full in the face, he fell backwards off his broom and – there was nothing we could do, nothing, we had half a dozen of them on our tail and we were too high up -" Bill said before cutting off, unable to go on.

"Of course you couldn't have done anything," Lupin told us both as tears started to stream down my face and Hermione rubbed circles on my back.

After that we went inside and I found out what had happened to the others, George had lost an ear because of Snape, which routed him firmly in second place of the Death Eaters I wanted to duel, Tonks had barely gotten away from a crazed Bellatrix alive as the mad woman really wanted my friend dead and Harry had fought Voldemort again and lived. The story sounded strange even to me, alone and clinging to the motorbike as Voldemort descended Harry had found that his wand acted on its own accord and saved him from Voldemort. No one seemed to believe that such a thing was possible, they all said that Harry must just have been acting without really thinking, however I kind of believed him, not because I didn't think he was a skilled dueller, but rather because he seemed so sure about it, and Harry was in the habit of being right about things that seemed impossible. Lest we forget my hard learned lesson of that fact.

The others then began to discus how the Death Eaters had found out about our plans, and like Harry and Bill I didn't believe that Mundungus had betrayed us, or that anyone of a number had. I couldn't make sense of it and neither could anyone, so it was another question left unanswered. Deciding to just be grateful that most of us had made it back here, we moved the conversation onto other things and lifted our glasses in respect for the one who fell in battle.

**Author note: as I'm sure you all know, as an author some chapters are easy to write and the words just flow from your fingers like water, while others are harder and drag by letter by letter. This chapter was hard for me for some reason, which is why it is a little later than I would have liked it to be, so I'm sorry for the wait.**

**Also, while I'm here let me ask you something. I was bored a few weeks ago and had been reading the first Harry Potter book, so I found myself writing Ivy's contribution to one of the key chapters in that book and really enjoyed myself. Here's the question, would any of you be interested in reading that chapter? It doesn't fit into this story but I could make it a one shot, of even a prequel if people are interested and you could suggest other chapters you'd like to see Ivy in, if you wanted. What do you reckon?**

**Oh, oh, and a big thank you to my anonymous reviewers Maddy and JS as well.**


	4. The past

**'Never regret something that once made you smile….at the time it's what you wanted' – Anonymous**

**Chapter four: The Past**

**Ivy**

Still sitting on the edge of Ginny's camp bed, the memory of the night we moved Harry from Privet Drive to The Burrow, and the night Moody died, was so vivid in my mind that I could hear the shouts of rage and screamed spells echoing in my ears, even now. I could feel the warm night air blow across my skin and was sure the bright lights of curses flashed in my eyes. Staring intently at the floor as images of our fight rushed through my mind I knew that this was only the beginning, that night had been a horrible taster of what was to come, of what we should expect in the approaching weeks, months, years, however long it took us to complete our mission. The first shot had been fired and a new war was beginning with my friends and I as willing soldiers on the front line. That night had only been the first battle, and we had already lost one of our number. How many more friends would be taken from us between now and the end of this I didn't even want to think about. Moody's death had been painful enough.

That night had opened my eyes as well, I thought as I toyed anxiously with the fabric of my skirt, witnessing Moody, the most renowned and skilled Auror I knew, be murdered right in front of me had made me realise something. That if even he couldn't stand up against Voldemort, what chance did the four of us have? Because any day now we would be leaving the Burrow to track down and destroy the Horcruxes, and once we set out on our task we would be open to the dangers of our changing world, to Voldemort and his supporters. If he knew of our plans and could kill Moody while we were only trying to move Harry, what would happen when he found out we were trying to make him mortal? It seemed not only a natural question to ask myself but pressing one, we were only a few kids after all, barely of age the lot of us and vastly less skilled and less educated than many who had fallen before us, how could be possibly hope to come out alive?

I never mentioned my worries out loud of course, I was sure that the others were thinking it as well and I didn't want to bring them down by saying this. However, the only answer to my question that I could find was that we had to. I would ask myself that question and then determination would rush through me, like it was this time too, and I would tell myself that we had to make it through this, not just for us but for the rest of the Wizarding World too. The world was changing around us, no one trusted anyone anymore and people were quietly panicking, anticipating Voldemort's next move. He was causing hysteria with all the kidnappings and murders and that was exactly what he wanted. Someone new went missing practically every week and the number of random murders, both of wizards and Muggles were fast totalling up, and the Wizarding World was in a panic. We were their last hope as far as I could see, we had the knowledge and the opportunity to stop Voldemort and that level of responsibility was more than just a little bit frightening. But still, we had the chance to change things and we couldn't pass it up, besides, with Voldemort taking over it really wasn't safe for any of us any more.

Shrugging all of that off, as easily as anyone could, I refused to let myself get down, this was a path I had chosen after all and I was sure I wouldn't have it any other way. I was helping my friends, keeping everyone I cared about safe and trying to destroy the evil creature that had murdered and corrupted so many good men. I was proud to be trying to make a difference, but absolutely crapping myself at the same time. Returning my thoughts to happier things, like the wedding which would be going on soon defiantly downstairs, despite all the doom and gloom of the moment, I felt my serious mood lift somewhat. I may have to go out on a dangerous and potentially life changing mission with my friends which could easily leave us all dead, but not today. I had today to be with my friends and just be happy, which was something I was glad of. So, refusing to dwell on the negatives I brushed down my dress and was about to get up and join the others when I spotted something glittering under Ginny's bed.

Frowning in confusion and letting curiosity fill me I slipped off the camp bed, gathering my skirt up as I did so, and knelt down on the floor so I could look under the bed. There, catching the light coming through Ginny's bedroom window, was a tiny glass vial and for a moment I was confused as to how my vial got there, until realisation hit me. It must have dropped from the camp bed and rolled here after I fell asleep looking at it last night, I thought as I picked the vial up, feeling the powdery texture of the dust, that coated the floor under the bed, brush my fingers as I did so. Blowing a stray curl from my face I sat back on my knees and held the glimmering vial up to the light, watching as the silvery substance squirmed behind the glass and, not for the first time, I wondered what was inside of it. I knew that it was a memory, that much had been made clear to me, but a memory of what I had no idea, however, that aside I knew it had to be important, which was why I kept it close to me at all times. Dumbledore wouldn't have given it to me if it wasn't of vital importance. The memory was probably the least puzzling of all the objects Dumbledore had left us in his will, since its purpose was fairly obvious, I had to look at whatever memory was inside, but by no means did I know what it was about. Pulling my hand back in and running my finger over the intricate swirling detail of the ornate carvings on the silver stopper, I remembered the day it was given to me.

It was about a few days after Harry had arrived at the Burrow and me, Harry, Hermione, the Weasleys and half the Order, were sat out in the garden enjoying ourselves. Lost in our own little world we had all been pretty surprised when Rufus Scrimgeour arrived at the Burrow, interrupting Harry's birthday party and asking for a word. Hermione, Ron and I were even more surprised, however, when he asked to speak to us as well as Harry, since it was pretty clear to us that we didn't factor in as important to the Minister, unless we agreed to persuade Harry to back the Ministry, which we wouldn't do even if he paid us. But he really did want to talk to us, so, suspicious and intrigued both the four of us left the others, who seemed wary of what the Minster wanted, and went with Scrimgeour to the Weasley's living room. Once seated all together on one of the Weasley's sofas, drawing strength and support from each other, we found out that not only had Dumbledore left us things in his will, but also that the Ministry had been keeping them back so that they could try and figure out what was so important about what he had left us.

Angry and appalled as Hermione told us that Scrimgeour was only giving us our possessions now because the thirty-one days he was allowed, by law, to withhold them had passed, we were told what we had been left by our old Headmaster. None of the things we were given made any sense to us, not that we let the Minister know that just like we tried not to let on that we were shocked that Dumbledore had left the rest of us things and not just Harry, but we all knew that we must have been given them for a reason. First of all Scrimgeour told us that Dumbledore had left Ron his Deluminator, an object which looked like a cigarette lighter and could be used to put out lights and then make them glow again. We all agreed was a fascinating and useful invention, but failed to see why Dumbledore had given it to Ron. Sharing a look of bewilderment with my friends, when Scrimgeour was too busy reading the next but of the will to notice, we then found out that Dumbledore had left Hermione a book. That, in its self didn't seem very strange, everyone knew that Hermione loved to read, however not one of us had a clue about why this book was so important that Dumbledore would leave it Hermione. I had never heard of it before, but like with the Deluminator I was sure that Dumbledore wouldn't have left it to Hermione without good reason.

After handing Hermione 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' and questioning Hermione as to why she had been left it, to which he was given the same response Ron had given the question, a resounding, ' I don't know, maybe he thought I'd like it', Scrimgeour turned to me.

"'To Miss Ivy Suzanne Jones, I leave the contents of this potion vial, to remind her that the past can be just as important as the future.'" He had said before looking up at me with his stern dark eyes and saying "at the Ministry we are well aware of your gift, Miss Jones, as you know you are a listed Seer, so we understand the symbolism of Dumbledore's words." He said before asking a question I was not expecting "However, what remains unknown is the contents of the vial, do you have any idea what it might be?"

Surprised I stared at the Minister for a moment before saying, in a confused tone,

"Shouldn't I be asking you that, Minster? After all, you are the one that has been inspecting it for the past thirty-one days."

Scowling at my impertinence Scrimgeour replied with, "We have so far been unable to open the vial in question," he said, looking a little irritated by that and producing the vial. Very intrigued and desperate to know what was so important that Dumbledore had put in a locked vial for me, and wondering if I would even be able to open it when I got it, I watched as Scrimgeour held it out.

It was a memory, I thought, stunned and recognising what was in the vial at once. However I didn't want the Minister to know that and so fixed a mystified expression in place as I looked at the silvery substance in the vial, which appeared to be neither gas nor liquid. Instead I focused on what Scrimgeour had said.

"So far?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow, remembering that Scrimgeour had said he hadn't been able to open it 'so far', I guessed that was where I came in. The Minister grinned.

"Dumbledore was a very skilled wizard, Miss Jones; it is entirely possible that the vial is enchanted so that only you can open it." Scimgeour said as he held the vial out for me to take.

"And if she refuses?" Harry asked protectively as I watched the swirling substance in the vial with interest, a thousand possibilities of what it could hold running through my mind, ranging from a reminder of something Dumbledore had told us, to another clue as to where the next Horcrux was hidden. Either way I was sure it was invaluable.

"Why should she?" Scrimgeour asked "if the four of you have nothing to hide then you shouldn't worry about the Ministry knowing what the container holds." He said simply and I knew that I had to take it, otherwise I'd look like I was guilty of something, besides I was too anxious to know what it held anyway, there was no point hanging around.

"Here," I said, feeling the eyes of my nervous friends on me as I reached out and took the vial from Scrimgeour.

However much I wanted to know what was in the vial I was still holding my breath and hoping I could find out away from the Minster's prying eyes. So when my fingers gently closed around the glass I found myself praying it wouldn't do anything. With the cool cylinder pressed against my palm I pulled back my hand and waited, expecting the beautifully carved silver stopper, like the kind you got on a flask but much prettier, to pop open. It didn't though.

Letting out a quiet breath of relief, one I felt echoed by the others around me, I had then looked at the Minister triumphantly, however, he didn't look too deterred though.

"Try and open it." he commanded and I could barely keep myself from frowning as I looked from him to the vial in my hand.

What if that was all it took? What if all it needed was for me to try and open it and then Scrimgeour could look at the memory? Feeling the weight of the Minister's gaze upon me I knew that I had no choice, and so feeling imposed, I pressed my thumb against the stopper and tried to pop it open. But still the lid refused to budge and the ornately carved metal dug into my thumb as I tried to open it with no avail. I looked up at the Minister, my eyebrows raised as a sarcastic question; he however only nodded sternly, urging me to try harder.

"It's not going to work," I muttered, knowing that my words were true before I'd even gripped the top of the stopper and tried again to open it, twisting the lid this time. Once again the metal refused to move and the stopper remained firmly in place.

"It wont budge," I said, giving up on trying to force to vial open, I knew it was pointless and knew it bothered the Minister to see me stop, he really wanted to know why Dumbledore had left us what he had.

"Why would Dumbledore leave you a vial that won't open? What would be the point to that?" Scrimgeour asked, looking at me intently as though he expected me to know the answer, which I kind of did since I thought it was probably to keep people like him from knowing what we were doing and what he'd told us. However, I only shrugged as the Minster frowned in irritation.

"Well, obviously it's purely for symbolic value," Hermione said from where she sat by my side "like you said, Minster, Professor Dumbledore left it to Ivy simply because she is a Seer and to remind her that the past is important too."

I quickly nodded in agreement with her words, glad that Hermione had jumped in with that, however Scrimgeour didn't look convinced.

"What else could it possibly be?" I asked him rhetorically in a dry, 'why are you even bothering to go on about this?' kind of voice, as though I thought he were an idiot for being concerned by what Dumbledore had left us. Which I did, because he wasn't doing anyone any favours by prying, he should just leave us to it.

"I don't know, Miss Jones," Scrimgeour said looking at me through momentarily narrowed eyes and causing me to stiffen and hold my head high in defiance "but I intend to find out."

With that threat hanging in the air and my friends shifting defensively around me (I could see all three of them scowling at Scrimgeour out of the corner of my eye) the Minister gave me one last look I suppose he intended to be intimidating enough to make me tell him everything. He failed in that though too, since impressive though Scrimgeour presence may be, I had dealt with much more intimidating men in the past. His gaze then returned to normal and the Minister went back to pretending he was our friend as he turned to Harry.

Scrimgeour then told us that Harry had been left the snitch he caught in his very first Quidditch match, which he was adamant was no more a sentimental keepsake than he believed my potion vial was. I supposed that he did have good reason to be suspicious of it though. Hermione informed the rest of us of what Scrimgeour obviously already knew, that snitches had flesh memories, which meant that it remembered the touch of the first person who held it, which in this case was Harry, and that the inside of the snitch was hollow and could contain something else left by Dumbledore that he didn't want the Ministry to see. Like my vial, the snitch could easily be hiding something all together more interesting. However, while I could agree that Scrimgeour had cause to interrogate us like he was and want to know what secrets our new possessions held, it still irritated me that this man, who thought he could boost his popularity by getting Harry to back him instead of by actually trying to deal with the threat of Voldemort, was sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. What Dumbledore had left us was between us and our old headmaster, it was nothing to do with the Ministry, nothing at all.

After he questioned him about the snitch Scrimgeour then asked Harry, like he had me earlier, to take the snitch, in the hopes that his touch would trigger the unlikely container to open.

"Right, because that worked the last time." I said snidely, implying that because my vial hadn't opened at my touch then the snitch wouldn't open at Harry's. Dispute my words though my heart was beating a little faster in my chest as Scrimgeour gestured again for Harry to take the snitch, more worried than I had been with the vial (since I had learned about the snitch's flesh memory) that whatever Dumbledore had left Harry that was of enough importance to hide like this, would be revealed in front of Scrimgeour.

Harry reached out, clearly reluctant but trying not to show it, and took the snitch in his hand, everyone paused for a moment, watching and waiting for (or in our case dreading) something to happen. Nothing did though, just like before with me and my vial, the snitch remained unchanged in Harry's hand, revealing nothing new. A relieved Harry shot a sarcastic remark Scrimgeour's way and Hermione asked if we were quite finished here. Ron and I were half way to our feet, anxious to get away from the Minister and talk about all of this, when Scrimgeour said he wasn't done with us yet.

"Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter." Scrimgeour said, eyeing Harry in such a way that I thought that this last object must be the real reason he was here, the thing that really had him bothered.

"What is it?" Harry asked, sounding suddenly interested again.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor," Scrimgeour said, his eyes narrowing again as he gauged our reaction. If I could have, I would have looked at the others to see if they understood this any more than I did, the sword of Godric Gryffindor, why on earth had Dumbledore left Harry that? What good would it do us? However, Scrimgeour was watching and so I settled for looking shocked, from the corner of my eye I saw the others stiffen.

"Where is it?" Harry asked distrustfully and looking firm Scrimgeour told us that as the sword was a valuable historical artefact and not the property of Professor Dumbledore, they weren't going to give it to Harry. My friends and I disagreed with this, outraged and telling the Minister that the sword had been left to Harry and so was his property. Scrimgeour, however was having none of it and when Harry voiced all our thoughts and said that Scrimgeour should by trying to help protect the people it was his job to govern instead of toying with snitches and story books, he snapped.

"You go too far!" Shouted the Minister as he abruptly got to his feet and turned his wand on Harry, holding it right to his chest.

"Oi!" Ron shouted when Scrimgeour removed his wand to reveal a burn on Harry's shirt, like the kind you'd get from a lit cigarette.

"No, Ron," Hermione cried as Ron made a move to pull his own wand. Frightened that he would do something stupid she grabbed hold of his arm, pushing it down and shaking her head furiously, though she still shot daggers at Scrimgeour with her eyes.

"He's right though, Hermione," I said looking from the hole in Harry's shirt to Scrimgeour, fury pulsing though me at an almost unmanageable level, no one hurt my friends. "He has no right to do that to anyone, I don't care who he is." I hissed, my eyes fixed firmly on the Minister and my balled hands snaking with rage. How dare he?

"No!" Harry insisted seeing the dangerous look in my eyes and knowing Ron was no better than I "D'you want to give him an excuse to arrest us?" he asked us and I knew he was right, that this wasn't a battle we could win. That realisation didn't make me feel any less furious though, but it did give me an incentive to stay calm.

"Remembered you're not at school, have you?" Scrimgeour asked bitingly, his enraged face right in front of Harry's, breathing heavily I scowled at him and stood firmly beside Harry and the others. "Remembered that I am not Dumbledore, who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it's not up to you to tell me how to do my job! It's time you learned some respect!"

"It's time you earned it!" Shouted Harry powerfully, without a moment's hesitation, and then the next thing I knew the door was being thrown open and Mr and Mrs Weasley ran into the living room, looking worried and having heard the shouting.

Trying to save face, Scrimgeour straightened up, took a step back from Harry and us, and did his best to assure Mr and Mrs Weasley that nothing was the matter. With a few parting comments for Harry, to which my friend shot back answers which left no doubt about his feelings for the Minister, he left. When he did I felt myself begin to relax a little, I hated being around Scrimgeour, he always put me on edge and I didn't like him at all as a person.

Emotive and very, very confused by what had just happened, we all returned to Harry's birthday party, wondering about the bequests. Once back outside we told the others about what Dumbledore had left us and watched as they each inspected the items we had, unable to explain the significance of any of them, except the obvious fact that the memory in my vial must be important. That evening Harry, Ron Hermione and I gathered in Ron's room, sitting cross-legged on the beds to discus the Deluminator, the book, the vial, the snitch and the sword. We were each studying each others items and Hermione wondered about how to open the snitch, if it even did open. Harry grinned at this.

"Well, I wasn't going to try too hard in front of Scrimgeour, was I?" Harry said and when Hermione asked what he meant Harry asked us if we remembered his first Quidditch match. And I did, but what stuck out most in my mind was Harry nearly being thrown off his broom by Quirrell and me being terrified for him. However, I also remembered having a vision whilst in the crowds, one about Harry sitting on the Quidditch Pitch looking like he was about to vomit. Only he hadn't vomited, he had…

"That was the one you nearly swallowed!" Exclaimed Ron, who had been waving his arms about and pointing throughout my revelation, clearly knowing the answer already.

"Exactly," Harry said and without any further ado he pressed the snitch to his lips and while it didn't pop open like we had hoped, something else did happen. There was suddenly writing on the back of the snitch, Hermione spotted it first and we all looked quickly to read it before it faded.

'I open at the close'

We muddled over that for a bit, elated to have figured out some of the snitches mystery but unable to unravel any more since we couldn't work out what it meant. What was the close? There wasn't a seam on the stitch, no clasp, no nothing. We didn't have a clue and no matter how many times we turned the riddle over in our minds and out loud, we came up with nothing. So, reluctantly admitting defeat, we moved onto the other items. We had no more luck trying to understand the significance of the Deluminator and the sword, however Ron explained to us what 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' was. Surprisingly, it was supposed to be a collection of wizarding children's stories, which made Dumbledore giving it to Hermione all the weirder, though Ron seemed more stunned that we had never heard of any of the stories he said were in it.

"And what about the vial? What memory do you suppose is in it?" Harry asked me, and pulling the vial from my pocket I inspected the swirling substance and held it out for the others to take.

"Do you think it could be a clue about the location of the other Horcruxes?" Hermione asked as she turned to vial over in her hands, carefully looking for a way to open it.

"I don't know," I said thoughtfully as she passed it to Ron, whose face strained with effort as he tried to pull off the stopper to no avail. Sighing he passed it on to Harry. "I thought it might be, but I suppose it could be something else."

"It won't matter if we can't get into it," Ron said as Harry looked deep into the vial before handing it gently back to me.

"I suppose," I said absentmindedly as I looked down at the glass cylinder in my hand and brushed my thumb against the patterned metal, which had long since absorbed my warmth. "I can't understand why it won't open…" I said breaking off with a gasp when the flask-like lid of the stopper flicked open suddenly, with no obvious encouragement from me.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked, looking wide eyed at the vial in my hand.

"I…I don't know," I said, looking up at Hermione and the others, completely lost and not having a clue about what I had done to cause it to open. "I didn't do anything; I was hardly even touching it."

"Maybe that's it," Hermione suggested thoughtfully "maybe you need to be gentler with it; maybe that's how you get it to open."

I thought about that and frowned, not really sure, it didn't seem like that was it to me. "I don't know," I hedged "it was passed around for half an hour downstairs, if that was the case surely someone would have opened it by now. It must have been something else."

"What does it matter?" Ron asked as though we were all completely mental "it's open now, we can see what's in it."

"It matters Ron," Hermione said strictly, looking at him and frowning "we'll have to close it again until we can look at it and if we don't know how to get back in it, what good is it? Besides, we can't just see what it is yet; do you see a Pensive anywhere around here?"

Ron bristled, ears glowing red and scowling because of his telling off, he muttered something about just using spell-o-tape and picked at his bed sheets.

"I've never heard of anyone other than Dumbledore having a Pensive," Harry said, looking anxiously between our two friends and trying to keep the peace. "Do you think he has the only one?" he asked Hermione who looked unsure.

"I don't know," she admitted "but since it's the only one we know of we'll have to use it, what do you think they have done with it…do you think its still there even though…even though…you know." she said, floundering and waving her hands awkwardly, not wanting to finish her sentence. which I understood, because it was stll a very sensitive subject for all of us, especially Harry, who had been closest the Dumbledore. It was a good question though, I thought looking from her to Harry who was probably the only one who could answer it, what had they done with all Dumbledore's things at the school, did he have family they were going to?

"Yeah," Harry said sadly "I know. But I don't think so," he continued "I reckon the school is still our best bet."

"We might struggle there then," I said a little sarcastically "since we're not going back."

"She's got a point," Ron agreed, pointing at me and raising his eyebrows at the others, we certainly seemed to have hit a wall here.

Just like that I could feel my excitement at opening the vial start to fade, not only did I not know how I'd managed to open it in the first place, it didn't look like I'd be able to look at it any time soon either. We couldn't go back to Hogwarts without them wondering why we weren't staying for the school year, meaning that it really wasn't an option to go there and use the Pensive.

"We'll think of something," Hermione said, picking up her book and thumbing through the pages.

"Yeah," I agreed as I held to vial up to inspect once more, sighing I knew that I couldn't leave it open like this, the memory would leak out and then what would we do? So, feeling a little down, I popped the lid of the vial shut again with my thumb, the sharp clipping sound it made bringing everyone's attention back to me.

"What are you doing?" Asked Ron, staring at me as though I were crazy, Harry and Hermione didn't look too impressed either and were watching me as though I'd just kicked Crookshanks across the room.

"I needed to close it," I said defensively "otherwise we'd lose the memory, anyway, what good is it being open if-" I cut off, startled as the stopper had just flicked open again, staring down at the vial in bewilderment I barley heard Hermione ask,

"What did you do that time?" an excited tone to her voice, which I knew came from her love of trying to figure out a challenge, we were getting closer to understanding this and she could tell.

"Nothing," I insisted, disbelievingly "I didn't do anything. I was just talking to you lot and then it opened."

"Well you must be doing something," Ron said gesturing to the vial in my hands "it wouldn't keep opening other wise."

I looked at my friends, frustrated that I just couldn't seem to figure out what I was doing right, unlike last time I had been gripping the tube in my hand, holding it tightly, and as far as I could tell there was no similarities between now and the last time I'd opened it, at least in the way I was holding it. All three of my friends looked thoughtful, lost in thought and trying just as hard as I was to figure this out. We were silent for a little while, each of us pondering, when Harry asked thoughtfully,

"What was it Scrimgeour said?"

"When? Before or after he burned a hole in your shirt?" Ron asked harshly, intending this to be more of a rant about Scrimgeour than an actual question, however Harry answered with,

"Before," frowning as he ran his thoughts through his mind my dark-haired friend then turned to me and said "he said that Dumbledore was a great wizard, that he could have charmed the vial to open only for you. Well, what if he did?" he asked, looking at me in earnest.

"But it didn't," I said not catching on yet "it didn't open when I first took it so it can't be that, unless there's some kind of delayed reaction thing on it."

"You don't think its touch sensitive, do you Harry?" Hermione asked, what Harry had said obviously clicking into place for her, I, meanwhile was still none the wiser.

"No," Harry affirmed and Ron frowned in confusion, like me still not sure of what they meant.

"Well, if it doesn't respond to her touch, what does it respond to?" Ron asked them and Hermione answered without a seconds hesitation.

"Her voice," she said and Harry nodded his agreement, letting us know that was what he was thinking too.

"Hang on; hang on, if that's true then how come it's only just opened now? How come it didn't open when she started to talk to Scrimgeour?" Ron asked as the pieces started to fall into place for me and I realised that they could very well be right, it would make perfect sense and would be a lot safer than if it was sensitive to my touch. Considering this I closed the lid of the vial again.

"Maybe it needs a password or something, something Dumbledore would expect her to say around it?" Harry suggested and I thought about that, what had I been saying the last two times it opened?

"That could be it," Hermione approved, looking between the three of us and still wearing an expression of excitement, glad to be figuring out a new riddle "we just have to work out what."

But I was already thinking, dissecting what I had been saying both times the vial opened and coming up with only one meaningful word that I had repeated. Thinking it was still possible that it wouldn't work but feeling quite sure that it would, I held the vial up for the others (who were still throwing around password ideas) and said,

"Open," in a firm, clear voice.

And then, just like that, the stopper sprung open, exactly as it had before. Satisfaction filling me up I looked out at the others, smiling, their all wore expressions of mild shock which they all lost at the sight of my smirk.

"That's that then." I said smugly, shutting the vial again with a sharp click and lowering it. Directly across from me Ron rolled his eyes though, like the others, he was now also grinning.

"Show off," he muttered.

After that we conducted a few more experiments, finding out that the stopper didn't respond to any variation on the word 'open', it had to be that word exactly or it wouldn't work, and that it had to be my voice that said it, no matter how hard they tried to imitate my voice or how forcefully they spoke, my friends could never open it. Feeling relieved that we had figured out what we had, and only a little disappointed not to know more, my friends and I reluctantly called it a night, as it was getting late and we wouldn't have put it past Mrs Weasley to come and check we were still in our beds and not running off on our big 'adventure'. Not wanting to worry her, Hermione and I sneaked back to Ginny's room, where the younger girl was fast asleep but probably not oblivious to our earlier absence. Crawling into my camp bed, I held on to the memory vial, wracking my brains as to what might be inside it. It could have been anything really, something trivial, something that would, like Dumbledore had said in his will, remind me of the importance of the past, something even I could admit I ran from these days. However, I was adamant that it wasn't that, I felt so sure that this memory was vital to the success of our mission and I was desperate to watch it.

This vial could hold all the answers we were searching for, I had thought sombrely as I stared at it through the dark, and we might never see them. My mind moving at a hundred miles per hour, jumping from one possibility to the next, I never once considered that the memory I so desperately wanted to see, might contain something I wanted desperately to forget.

And so, here I was, a few days down the line and still no closer to figuring out what memory this was. Though of all the possibilities I had come up with, I found myself leaning towards the possibility that it was a clue about the location of the next Horcrux, though I supposed that might just have been wishful thinking. We had made no more planning progress of late, sure we were all packed and ready to leave at a moments notice, courtesy of Hermione, but we had absolutely no idea where we were going when we did leave, or what we would do. And that didn't sit well with me at the moment, but there was nothing we could do about that. We were no closer to understanding the other bequeathed objects than we had been that night either, Ron couldn't figure out the significance of the Deluminator, Hermione couldn't fathom why Dumbledore had left her a collection of children's stories, and Harry was lost as to what 'I open at the close' meant and what Dumbledore expected him to do with a sword he wasn't even allowed. We were all stumped and confused, and it was fair to say that was dangerous for us right now.

Tapping my nails on the thick glass of the vial I looked up, hating how lost I felt right now but refusing point blank to admit to feeling that way or to let that get in the way of anything, I was giving this mission my all, and noting would stop that. Looking to my left I spotted my reflection in Ginny's mirror and noticed something I hadn't spotted earlier. I looked older; already there were bags under my eyes from sleepless nights of worrying and anger, my brows were furrowed, firmly so that even when I tried to straighten them out I could still see faint frown lines, also my lips were tightly pursed, almost in a grimace. I'd be lying if I said that I thought all of this was only to do with what was coming. The events of the past few months had taken their toll on me and already I looked a thousand times harder, colder and more serious, and, I didn't like it. I hated the haunted look I wore, the pain in my eyes and the hatred etched into every line of my face, I wanted to get rid of it all but I knew that I couldn't. It was the mask of determination I always seemed to be wearing these days, except in the company of my friends, and to take it down would make me lose my control, and I needed that right now. Otherwise I'd likely apparate to Malfoy Manor right now, toss my wand aside and attack him mercilessly. And the frightening thing was, I couldn't tell how I meant that.

No, I know exactly what I mean by that, I told myself firmly, fooling myself, I want to hurt him, to make him pay for his betrayal. Tightening my grip on the vial as I felt my blood pressure rise and my teeth grit, fury filling me up as loyalty and determination had just seconds before. Feeling the organ in my chest ache painfully I scowled at the floor, trying to focus my attention on the anger instead of the pain but knowing, even as I did, that I ought to be pushing both from my mind. In the end, someone else did it for me.

"Ivy," Hermione called out gently, knocking on my door and pulling me from my thoughts. Tears still stung furiously at my eyes and my blood still burned in my veins, but I felt myself cooling off, not wanting my friend to see me like this.

"Yes?" I called out, quickly wiping away my tears, just in time too as Hermione opened the door and walked in.

Like me, Hermione was also in new dress robes, hers however was a charming soft lilac colour, floaty and less sheer than my own. Her hair was straight and hung loosely past her shoulders, she also wore a big smile, which I returned, pushing aside my earlier thoughts and knowing was best t get out of my mood now.

"What's up?" I asked her lightly as she began to inspect me with sudden suspicion, looking as though she might easily ask me the same question. Hoping my previous state wasn't too obvious, and knowing how I worried her, I smiled and waited for her response, noticing as I did that I still held the vial dangerously tight. Lessening my hold, I kept the vial loosely pressed against my palm as Hermione spoke.

"Nothing, I just thought you might be downstairs by now." She said walking across the room and sitting down on the camp bed beside me, setting down a nice beaded bag on her lap. I was sure that I had seen it somewhere before, in fact, however I decided that I must not have, because Hermione usually wasn't the kind to carry around bags like that, not practical enough.

"I was going in a minute," I said, trying not to appear too guilty "I was just finishing getting ready. Was there something you wanted?" I asked as she watched me, still wary, from the corner of her eye.

"Yes, actually," she said, wiping away her suspicious expression and asking "have you finished packing?"

I laughed then, it was a light sound "you know I have." I said, thinking of Hermione standing diligently over the boys and I as we carefully packed our most prized belongings.

She nodded "can I have your bag then?" she asked me and I frowned a little in confusion.

"Why?" I asked and, most unlike herself, Hermione shrugged.

"I wanted to get everything together, just in case." She replied, as though that wasn't just a tad paranoid.

"Err, okay," I said getting off the bed and pulling my grey rucksack out from underneath it "anticipating the need for a quick get away?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

"Are you?" she asked meaningfully, widening her eyes and I shook my head. So far I had had no visions about tonight, which didn't necessarily mean anything, only that we were no more informed. "Well, I just wanted to be prepared; we only agreed to stay until after the wedding, we need to be ready to go."

"Fair enough," I said dumping my bag on the camp bed and pausing, only a second to look at it, before gently putting the vial in there too, in-between a rolled up top and a towel.

I hadn't packed much, other than clothes of course, Hermione had already gone through all of our books and we had only taken what we thought was absolutely necessary from the stacks, the same could be said for most of our magical equipment, we didn't want to be weighing ourselves down when we got out there. However, while most of my personal possessions were remaining in my trunk in Ginny's wardrobe, a few well loved items had made it onto the list with my many lairs of clothes. The most sentimental of which being my photo album, which I hadn't looked through in months but felt like taking just to remind myself of my family and all the lovely memories captured in there. In addition to the album the only other things I took really were a few gifts from my family, given years ago, including beautiful floral notebook I had gotten a few birthdays back from my siblings but never used, a encyclopaedia of British plant life my dad had given my when I started girl guides, and the silver chain that held the ring around my neck, which had once been my mothers. It wasn't a lot, but it was all I could really take with me. Even Athena had to stay, being too high maintenance and too easy to track, not to mention still grieving for the loss of her friend, Hedwig.

"There you go," I said handing Hermione the rucksack, she took it with a thoughtful smile, as though her mind was elsewhere.

"Thank you," she said as she tested the rucksacks weight in her hands and her grin widened, she then looked up at me and said "the guests are starting to arrive now."

"Yeah," I said looking towards Ginny's window and seeing the white canopy of the gazebo and all the stunning decorations and knowing I needed to get down there. "I'll head down in a minute." Hermione nodded, probably sensing I wanted a moment alone.

"Okay," she said "I'll see you in a minute; I've just got something to do."

"Alright," I said as she made her way towards the door, "see you in a bit."

When Hermione was gone I turned back to the mirror, holding my shoulders back and my head high, I focused on the big picture instead of the tiny details, not really wanting to look at how tired I already looked. I looked determined, like a woman on a mission, and while that was what I usually strived for it was no good for today, this was a wedding, I was supposed to be happy. I was happy though; I was chuffed to bits for Bill and Fleur and honoured to be attending their big day, but I could still feel a weight bearing down on me, something that was making it incredibly difficult to just go downstairs and have fun with everyone else. Which was bad, since I really needed some fun right now.

Scowling at myself I shook myself, literally, wanting to clear my mind and try again, all this thinking of the past was bringing me down again, and that was exactly what I fought against, I wouldn't be miserable, I wouldn't let this bother me. Glancing once more at myself in the mirror, still feeling like something was missing from the picture and avoiding thinking about what I now understood was missing, for the sake of my own sanity, I then turned away. I was happy for Bill and Fleur, I thought as I crossed Ginny's room, I really was, and I was looking forward to spending today having a good time with my friends, it would be good, I could feel it. I just needed to push aside everything I had just been thinking about, Moody's death, the frustration over still not understanding the things Dumbledore had left us, Draco. I needed to forget all of that and the next few hours would be fine, I could enjoy myself, because I really needed to do that. Hand wrapped around the doorknob I glanced backwards once more into the room, at the mirror, and couldn't help but think that in my case, Dumbledore was wrong. The past, was something I ought never to think about.

**Author note: Dear reviewers and readers, please, please forgive me for this….monstrosity, I had such a hard time writing it you wouldn't believe, it's shocking, it truly is. But necessary. I can only hope that you can find it somewhere in your heart to forgive this mess and keep your faith in me, I have so many big ideas. Apologies, Emzigale.**

**Oh, on a brighter note, have a nice Bonfire Night everyone! (if you celebrate it) Remember, remember the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot. Etc. I love it myself, which in hindsight is a bit paganistic, but there we go. Have a great night. :)**

**And a really big thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter and those who reviewed 'Foresight', much love to you! x**


	5. The waiting noose

**Chapter five: The Waiting Noose**

**Ivy**

"Fred!" I exclaimed, laughing as the redheaded boy spun me around the dance floor enthusiastically, my formerly incredibly straight hair (which was now a complete mess from being ruffled repeatedly by the twins) and baby blue skirt billowing behind me.

"Keep up, Ivy," Fred called as he led me across the dance floor, intercepting other couples with loud shouts of "out of the way, wide load coming through," as we went.

"Oi!" I exclaimed, hitting him on the arm for the insult, at which Fred simply grinned and began to spin me around again and again. I couldn't help it, I could never stay mad at one of the twins and Fred was only kidding, so, in spite of myself, I laughed and danced energetically with him, sparing no thought for the strange looks we were getting from some of the guests.

Bill and Fleur's wedding ceremony had been beautiful, without a shadow of a doubt, it had been impossible not feel moved by the service and it was simply stunning in every way. I had never been to a Muggle wedding before so I didn't know now they compared, but I was pretty sure Muggle ceremonies didn't involve showers of magical silver stares and birds of paradise that escaped from balloons. I had sat with Harry, Ron and Hermione, tearing up alongside my friend as much as I tried not to, but it was lovely, and I was so happy for them both. For a while I forgot about everything, wrapped up in the moment I forgot about what had happened recently and everything that was going to, I saw only too people in love vowing to spend the rest of their lives together, and despite everything that renewed my faith in things just a little bit. It cheered me up to say the least. And then the wedding reception had started, and the rows of chairs vanished and reappeared around a few tables on the outskirts of the molten gold dance floor that had materialised from nowhere. Taking a seat at a table with my friends and Luna, who looked stunning in a bright yellow dress and with a sunflower in her hair, I continued to enjoy myself, however, memories were starting to creep up on me slowly.

I tried to push it all from my mind, to think about only what was happening now, and for the most part I was successful, I kept a smile firmly in place and had a laugh with my friends. However after Luna went off to dance, quite happily alone in the middle of the dance floor, and Ron pulled Hermione away for a dance since Krum, invited to the wedding by Fleur, had come and sat down with us, it was harder not to think about the last event like this I'd been to. The Yule Ball. I tried to keep my mind away from the past but it was hard, sitting here with Harry and Krum I was instantly reminded of my Bulgarian date to the Yule Ball, Aleksandar, and consequently, what had happened after he ditched me for Pansy Parkinson. Lost in thought I wasn't paying any attention to what Harry and Krum were talking about, in my mind grey stone walls were building up around the couples on the dance floor, the music grew so loud that it was pounding in my ears and the lights dimmed to the level of gentle candle light. With all this in mind I could feel myself irately bobbing my foot up and down and gritting my teeth, annoyed.

_"Will you stop grinding your teeth, Jones? Its making more racket that the music." _

His voice rang out clear and precise in my mind, the memory was so vivid, so life like that I actually jumped when my imagination ran away with me, feeling almost as though he was sat right next to be even though I knew full well that he wasn't. Brows furrowing and lips set in a firm line I looked away from the dancing couples, my imaginings crumbling around me and my heart beating a little too fast in my chest. God, I thought in self-disgust, what was wrong with me? I was ruining a perfectly good evening by thinking about him, and why, purely because the last time I'd been in a fancy dress I'd had one dance with him. This is pathetic, I told myself, hating how I was letting him get to me even now, there was no reason for it, there was nothing here to link then to now, not really. Subconsciously clutching the ring in my right hand, pulling so tightly on the chain that you'd have thought I'd notice that action, but I didn't, I scowled at the floor and did my best to cleanse my mind of him once again. It was difficult though, by then I was bubbling fiercely with hurt and anger, which was never a good combination for me.

Fred had approached me then, and saying that I was moping he all but pulled my arm from its socket as he urged me onto the dance floor, even though the world around me was still tinted red with my rage. But that didn't last long. I was glad Fred did what he did, not the pulling my arm part, but the getting me to dance. He was so cheerful and mischievous that it was impossible to be anything but the same around him, and that was exactly what I needed right then. Grinning widely as we did a kind of quick step around the dance floor, I let Fred guide me in this manic dance which was totally inappropriate for the slow tempo of the music. I could hear Muriel loudly saying as much from one of the tables around the golden floor, she also indiscreetly commented on my 'bony neck'. I didn't feel the slightest bit self conscious though, I was just happy.

"Much better," Fred observed pointedly, nodding at my joyful expression as he led me forwards in an exaggerated fashion, pulling me into jerky, low bends right at the waist in time with him and every step we took.

"What?" I half asked half chortled, my hair bobbing about my shoulders as Fred pulled me up and down, up and down.

"You're not being a mardy sod any more," he said with a cheeky grin.

"I wasn't being moody!" I exclaimed as he abruptly stopped the waist bending move and we began to quickly skip about the floor, I almost tripped in an effort to keep up with him. "I was just thinking." I insisted and Fred rolled his eyes.

"Well don't," he told me "it makes you miserable and you were never very good at it."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, shaking my head in disbelief at his playful insult.

Fred's grin only widened though as he said "you're welcome," and we continued to dance.

We danced like that for a little while longer, Fred losing none of his energy as he led me around the golden dance floor, twirled me around, skipped, hoped and spun, though I wasn't surprised, since he was like that. As my friend and I moved I was pleased to find that my pleasant mood held steady. Fred was as far removed from HIM as it was possible to be, there were no similarities to be spotted here, no memories to suddenly remember, and I was grateful for that. Although there was one instant of momentary triumph when I realised that I hadn't trodden on Fred's toes once, and I remembered the argument Malfoy and I had had about who was the better dancer. For a brief moment I thought, with quite a lot of smug satisfaction, that I would have to tell him about this and prove my point, before I remembered that, on principle, I would never speak to him again.

However, even that didn't bother me for long as Fred was on hand with a few joking remarks about the other guests, and I was once again in stitches before I could even think too much about it. I guessed that Fred knew that there was something wrong, even if he didn't know exactly what. I was willing to bet that he'd overheard Ron and Harry talking about what Malfoy had done or had maybe he had just noticed that I looked suddenly pissed off when he spotted me earlier, either way he seemed to be trying to cheer me up. Which I appreciated. However, I also summarised that George was also in on this clown act, when he suddenly appeared by our side.

"Pitiful," he said to his twin, shaking his head in mock shame when we came to a sudden stop next to him, which caused my hair to swing over my shoulders. "You call that dancing; no wonder she's so miserable."

"I'm not!" I insisted, looking between the two in disbelief, however neither said anything to me.

"And you could do better?" Fred asked, cocking an eyebrow challengingly at his twin.

"In my sleep," George affirmed confidently, though from the smirks they both wore I knew they were only playing. "With too left feet, in a patch of Devil's Snare."

"Be my guest," Fred said dramatically, holding my hand out to George while I shook my head and smirked at the two, amused even if I knew what they were trying to do.

"Why thank you," George said as he accepted my hand and winked at me.

"Oh," I said in mock surprise "is this you leaving me, Fred?" I asked, putting my free hand to my chest and pulling a dramatic look of devastation, Fred laughed.

"Yeah, Ivy," he grinned "it's time we went out separate ways. It's not you, it's me." He said before bowing theatrically and running off, noticeably heading towards Fleur's Veela cousins.

"Traitor!" I called after him jokingly, at which Fred only stuck out his tongue, however there was a sudden jolt through my heart has I said that one word, it's sentiments too familiar and too relevant for it not to hurt me. Instinctively I reached up to grip my necklace again, hardly thinking about what I was doing.

"Oh no," George said suddenly, pulling me further onto the dance floor and causing me to snap out of my trance a little, though I was still slightly dazed and not at all in a good way. "We're losing her again," he said as though talking to someone else "better put that smile back on her face."

He grinned at me and I flashed George a sad smile before he took hold of my other hand and spun me around so suddenly I almost ended up in a heap on the floor and my feet left the ground. Heart beating noticeably in my chest for an entirely different reason now, namely that I'd just been scared half to death; I stared at a grinning George with wide eyes.

"What was that for?" I asked shrilly, hearing my blood pound in my ears and a little panicky, he really had scared me.

"Shock treatment," George smirked "now cheer up misery guts, or I'll have to resort to the heavy artillery."

I was about to say that I knew what he was doing, I was going to tell him that he didn't need to bother trying to cheer me up, that I was fine and he could go and dance with the other Veela cousin if he wanted to. But I didn't get a chance to because George was suddenly guiding me around the floor with just as much enthusiasm as Fred had. Seriously, I didn't know where they got their energy from. I was already exhausted, though I don't know why that was such a big shock to me, George was no less vigorous than Fred and I found myself quickly getting lost in a mad array of turns, twirls, jump steps and, now, lifts. Soon I was light headed, dizzy and giggling at George's sense of humour and comic timing, all morose thoughts were pushed to the back of my mind.

As George and I animatedly danced around the room, I waved the Luna, who was copying a few of the same steps alone in the centre of the dance floor, smiled at Hermione, who looked positively thrilled as an equally pleased Ron lead her as they danced sweetly, and glanced over at Harry, who was talking to an elderly wizard and also Muriel. Feeling sympathetic, since we all knew how Muriel was, I was going to go and help him escape, because that was what friends did, but I didn't get the chance. Something else happened instead. I stopped, nausea hitting me suddenly and my head spinning at the same time that my stomach rolled.

"What's wrong?" George asked, bending close as my eyes went wide and I recognised these symptoms, I needed to act fast.

"Nothing," I said quickly, not wanting him to worry and needing a little bit of privacy for this, my visions had been violent lately and I didn't want everyone to see me like that. "I'm just tired, do you mind if I get something to drink and have a break?"

George thought about that for a moment, looking unsure and a tad worried, which didn't look right at all on his usually cheerful face. He didn't want to let me go; probably thinking that I needed watching, even though I didn't and no one else seemed to think I was unstable. However, meanwhile I was deep into the warning stages for my visions, nausea, dizziness, feeling distanced from everything, were recent prequels to my visions where up until a few months ago there had never been any warning. The tunnel vision was starting now and I knew that I didn't have long, however I did my best to smile and look innocent to George, since I wanted to be away from everything when my vision hit.

"Alright," George said a little reluctantly, though that didn't last too long as he added "I'll find you again in ten minutes to dance again, and yes," he added jokingly as he ruffled my hair "that is a threat."

I smiled at him and let out a breath of laughter that I couldn't even begin to suppress, before I promptly turned away from him and headed out from under the billowing white marquee, past all the tables and chairs, and hurried towards the house. However, I knew when that otherworldly breeze passed across my mind that I wouldn't make it all that way, there simply wouldn't be the time, and so I quickly dived behind the outdoor broom cupboard just as my world faded to black and I was robbed completely of my senses. I stayed in complete and utter numbness for a brief moment before a new scene unfolded before my eyes, the bright cheerful summer day at the Burrow was replaced by the dark, cold streets of a city that I didn't recognise. And suddenly I was afraid, absolutely petrified and flinching away from every single person who passed me by as I made m way down the darkened street. Night had fallen here and I was on edge, however, I wasn't alone. Harry, Ron and Hermione were here too, walking a little way ahead of me, all of them still wearing their dress robes and looking thoroughly out of place on what was clearly a muggle street.

Wrapping my arms around myself, the flimsy lace sleeves doing nothing to protect me from the nights chill, as I hurried down the dirty street, I thought vaguely about how the hem of my dress would be filthy by the time we'd finished, but I had more important things to worry about. Shivering I looked around me, seeing the imposing grey buildings of the Muggle street, hearing the vroom of the grubby coloured cars and buses as the drove past, watching as passers by shot us repulsed and bewildered looks as the walked past, and I felt frightened. Not because of all of this, I was used to the Muggle world, I'd lived in it my whole life and really this ought to have been comforting to me, but it wasn't, the dark shapes and shadows, each one looking like an enemy waiting to leap out, and the unfriendly faces put me firmly on edge. What if they followed us here? I fretted, feeling my heart pick up speed in my chest and panic bubble up inside me.

However, that feeling and that scene didn't last for very long, there was a shift in the air around me and I came to a gradual stop. As I stood still where I was, my present self for a moment and very confused with what was going on, the colours of people and cars passing by suddenly whooshed around me as they hurried forwards at an impossible speed, becoming nothing but blurs, or perhaps it was me that had moved and not them. I didn't know, this was new to me and when the blur of colours became distinguishable again, I found that I was still walking the same road as my friends, only now we were dressed in Muggle clothes and were a little less terrified. Just a little bit. I couldn't see Harry any more either, which worried me immensely.

"Where now?" Ron asked anxiously from a step ahead of me, he looked at Hermione walking in front of him before looking over his shoulder at me.

"In here," Hermione said as she came to a sudden stop, looking up at something, I turned and followed her gaze, spotting a rusted metal sign hanging on the side of the building, which read: The Hangman's Noose. Ron's eyebrows shot up as he read the name of the pub and he paled, taking it as an omen.

"I came for a meal here with my parents once, it's nice." She said and when Ron looked at me sceptically I could certainly see why, with its name and slightly grubby exterior it didn't exactly look nice. The paint was peeling on the door and the sign creaked ominously above our heads, as though ready to fall, all in all it wasn't very appealing, but I knew that we didn't have much choice, we had to get off the street.

No one said anything and we all quickly followed Hermione inside, pleasantly surprised by what we saw there. It wasn't bad at all on the inside; the pub looked pretty much exactly the same as any other in the country, wooden bar, faded overused stools, corner tables, fruit machines and dimmed lighting. However it wasn't unpleasant at all, the people inside seemed friendly enough and paid us next to no attention, too absorbed in their own conversations and drinks, there wasn't many of them either, ten at most. And I felt safe, for probably the first time since coming here, and I supposed it was because I was used to this setting, my parents having been friendly with the landlord of our local pub I'd spent a lot of time there myself growing up.

However, even though I felt myself begin to relax a little, I still kept a close eye on my friends. Ron was scanning the room for the best table for us and Hermione was digging through her beaded bag for some money for drinks, when something started to tap me on the shoulder. I turned but while I couldn't see anything, future me didn't seem surprised at all.

"What is it?" I discreetly asked thin air, my concern starting to rise as the feeling of security began to leave me, something wasn't right here, I could sense it.

"Death Eaters," Harry's voice hissed and I froze, feeling fear cut though me like a knife.

"You sure?" I asked slipping my hand into my pocket and grasping my wand, at the same time the fingers on my other hand reached upwards and curled around the ring on the chain around my neck.

"Yes," he replied sounding an alarming mix of angry and afraid "they're in the far right corner."

I nodded and slowly turned carefully back around. Keeping my body facing Hermione and Ron's backs I glanced in the direction Harry had said out of the corner of my eye, my heart beating furiously in my chest when I spotted two hooded figures sitting there and I knew instantly that they were Death Eaters. A quiet gasp escaped my lips and I quickly averted my gaze, both of them wore black cloaks and I could see the bottom of a pale white mask from under one of the hoods, there was no denying that they were Death Eaters; Muggles simply didn't dress like that, not in the middle of summer.

"We need to leave," I breathed, taking a step closer to the others and sensing Harry moving behind me.

"Why?" Ron asked loudly and I cringed, my gaze flicking back to the pair in the corner, mercifully they seemed to have no reaction to Ron's exclamation. I widened my eyes meaningfully at Ron, almost unable to believe that he had just done that, Hermione meanwhile, looked alarmed.

"Death Eaters," Harry told them from by my side and I watched as both of them stiffened and their faces changed from ones of contentment to ones of fear.

"If we leave quietly now, they might not notice us." Hermione suggested but I felt that it wouldn't be as easy as that, the Death Eaters had to know we were here already, otherwise what would they be doing here? I kept quiet though, we didn't have any other choice, especially not now surrounded by all these innocent Muggles, we had to try and make a swift exit.

Eyes wide but trying to act as natural as possible, as though my friends and I had simply decided we'd go elsewhere to drink, I turned around but stopped when I almost collided with a large man standing right behind me. My nose bumped his chest and I felt a flush of angry and humiliated heat on my cheeks, however after pulling away from him just a little I moved no further away, standing still where I was, dread keeping me in firmly place. Heart frozen in my chest for some reason, I felt my gaze reluctantly turn upwards to see who stood there, dressed in all black. Shock and fear shot through me when my eyes spied a grotesque mask beneath a heavy black hood, and I felt my blood run cold in my veins, Death Eater. And then my still heart plummeted, fast and weighted with fear.

"Ivy," I heard Hermione gasp as I took a frightened step back away from the extremely large Death Eater in front of me, feeling the beginnings of fury building up in my system as I stared at him. This was our first real encounter with them since Moody died, maybe this was our chance to do him proud, I thought with sudden determination. Those thoughts and feelings soon diminished though, when I spotted another Death Eater standing threatening beside the first one, and my gaze landed the wands they both held. We were in trouble.

Standing together with my friends, I reached for own wand, backing away gradually and holding onto the hope that they wouldn't do anything too serious in front of all these Muggles, then I remembered that they were Death Eaters and that they probably wouldn't care. Ron and Hermione were already aiming at them as we retreated. The Death Eaters followed us as we moved though, taking a step forwards for each of the ones we took back, and at first I thought they were just trying to intimidate us, to frighten us so that we did something stupid. And then I heard Hermione let out a startled scream.

Whipping my head around, reluctant to turn my back on the Death Eaters but needing to know what had happened to Hermione, I felt my stomach join my heart in freefall and my eyes go wide at what I saw there. Hermione had collided with the other two thickset Death Eaters, who had now joined the fight, and we were trapped between them. Spinning back to face the other two, who seemed smug and self-assured even behind their horrid masks, I gulped. The pub was silent now; everyone was looking our way in shock and fear; however despite this the Death Eaters showed no signs of stopping their advances. Standing against these two and sensing Harry do the same by my side, while Hermione pressed her back against mine and stood before the others, Ron right next to her, I wanted to cower from the large, threatening men, even as I wanted to make them pay for what they did. I was afraid, so terrified that my friends and I had already lost, that we'd failed the Wizarding World before we'd even made a real move to save it and that now we were going to be made to suffer. I gripped my wand tightly in my now sweaty hand, clinging to the hatred I felt for these sorry excuses for human beings, but knowing that it wasn't enough, we had been herded and we weren't ready. As the Death Eaters advanced on us, I already knew we couldn't win.

My return to the present was so shocking and so abrupt that I awoke with a sharp gasping breath and my eyes opened wide as I drank in my old surroundings as well as the air. I was lying on my side behind the Weasley's broom cupboard, my entire left side hurting from where I had hit the ground and my hair sprayed out on the grass around me. The afternoon sun was shining down on the Burrow and warming my skin, which had been ice cold with fear only seconds before. I waited impatiently for the nausea to pass, before carefully sitting up; I stopped there for a second, checking that I really was back to normal before getting to my feet and dusting myself down. Somehow I had managed to avoid getting grass stains on my baby blue dress; but how I did so didn't matter to me just then.

A little dazed from my frightening vision, I didn't even try to compose myself before I staggered out from behind the broom shed and started back towards the party, lost in my own thoughts and hardly focusing on anything at all around me. It was going to happen today, I thought as I rejoined the groups of people stood and sat around the edge of the dance floor and plucked a glass of Butterbeer from a waiter's tray as he passed. It had to be today, why else would be all be in our dress robes? I asked myself as I took a generous gulp from my glass, fearing that I might need something stronger if I was going to have to face that tonight. They got us; I thought as I took a slightly daintier sip of the amber liquid and ran a hand through my hair. I knew it with every fibre of my being; it was a painful truth that I couldn't deny even though I hadn't seen the end of that confrontation, in that vision, in that future, the Death Eaters would over power us. I need to stop this, I told myself as the glass shook a little in my hand, I need to tell Harry. Taking another, less dainty, sip I scanned the white canopy and found Harry, still sat at the same table with a satisfied looking Muriel and a distressed looking older wizard I didn't know. I started to head over there but was intercepted by George.

"Times up, Ivy girl," he said cheerfully, appearing from nowhere and wiggling his eyebrows mischievously, and for a moment I just stared at him, half drunk glass in my hand and a vacant expression in place. What was he talking about? I wondered, my mind so wrapped up in what I had just seen that I had forgotten earlier. And then I remembered.

"Oh," I said remembering that the twins were passing me between them like some little emotionally unstable puppy, and that was still supposed to be dancing with George. Feeling an idiot for having forgotten, but knowing I had to get to Harry, I added, "sorry George, but I cant, I have to go and tell Harry something."

"What's this?" Fred asked turning up out of the blue just like his brother had, and surveying me with a playful sternness which matched the look George now wore. They were still messing about to try and cheer me up.

"She says she's got to go and tell Harry something," George said "but I'm not sure I'll let her."

"Let me?" I asked, my eyebrows shooting up in disbelief, I'd like to see the two comedians try and stop me.

Both twins ignored my comment though and began to inspect me; smirks still breaking through their serious expressions, "Good call, George," Fred agreed "just look at her, she's got more wrinkles in her forehead than our dear Auntie Muriel. A sure sign of a worry wart if ever I did see one."

"Right you are, Fred," George continued, reaching out and stroking a strand of my hair between his fingers "and look at this, I do believe it is a grey hair!" he said, grinning as I scowled.

"Most concerning." Fred decided "And here," he said gesturing to my right hand, which had somehow crept up towards the necklace between coming back around from my vision and talking to the twins, "she's tugging on that pendant again, Merlin knows we've all got to watch ourselves when she does that."

Ashamed of myself and starting to get just a little bit irritated, I promptly dropped the ring back against my chest, so violently that it actually hurt when it bumped against my collar bone, hating that I'd reached for it and hating that they'd seen. My gaze narrowed at him but Fred didn't so much as flinch, in fact his grin widened.

"Finally, Fred," George said with the air of a university lecturer giving a class or else a presenter of a wildlife show describing the scene "observe how she's pouting her lips, like so," he said gesturing to my mouth.

"They weren't like that until you got here," I intoned, having appreciated all that they had done to try and cheer me up but really needed them to drop it now, I had to tell my friends what I'd seen, I had to keep that from happening.

"Yes, clearly once again our poor Ivy has sunk into the depths of misery." George concluded with a cheeky grin, the only sign that he had heard me at all.

"Best get back to work then, George," Fred said patting his brother on the shoulder "or else she'll be stuck like this."

"Forever," George added.

"And ever," Fred carried on as he walked to stand at the side of me.

"And ever." George concluded as he looked down on me from his great height.

"Listen, guys," I said carefully, getting the impression that they were up to something "I really need to talk to the others, it's important." I said as I tried to back away.

"Is it life threatening?" George asked.

"Potentially," I quickly replied, wondering if they would let me go and do this.

"Is it happening right this second?" Fred asked.

"No," I said noticing as I said that that it was starting to get dark now, the sun was nearing the end of its slow motion fall to Earth and the skies were turning a darker shade of midnight blue. "But I think it's going to be soon." I said worriedly before going to duck around Fred and saying "so I'd best be going, thanks for understanding, guys."

As I turned my gaze searched the crowd once more for Harry, I spotted him easily and went to head towards him but I didn't get far though, Fred's arm slipped around my waist and in one fluid movement he pulled me backwards, to were George was waiting for me.

"Not so fast," they both coursed as Fred released me and I came to a jerky stop in front of George, almost falling into him.

"You're not getting away from us-" George started as he promptly reached down, grabbed me around the waist and threw me up over his shoulder, so that my stomach was resting there.

"-that easily." Fred finished as his brother turned and carried me back onto the dance floor.

"George!" I exclaimed, wriggling in his grip and trying to free myself "this isn't funny; I really need to talk to them!" I told him before letting out a groan of discomfort, as his shoulder was digging into my stomach painfully, and agitation.

"It can wait," Fred said as he walked along easily beside us, as though this wasn't just a touch strange and half the congregation wasn't watching us, I couldn't have cared less about that though.

"Besides, we wont see you for Merlin knows how long when you and the rest of the Wonder Gang head off on your big adventure, so you owe us this at least." George said matter of factly as he stepped around Luna and Ginny, who looked at me questioningly and at whom I could only look sulkily, and neared the centre of the dance floor.

"Lives," I said huffily, not in the mood for games any "could be at risk here, and you two want to dance!" I all but shouted at them, pressing my palms flat against Georges back to keep me from just lolling there and glaring at him over his shoulder.

"Keep it down woman," he said as he came to a stop and took me from his shoulder "right in my ear hole." He added with a mock look of pain and he rubbed the side of his head, where his ear used to be.

"Not funny," I said, arms folded as he grinned mischievously at me, even though I was fighting back a smile in spite of myself.

"I thought it was pretty funny," said Fred commented, popping up beside us and sharing a look with his brother "nice one, George."

"Why thank you, Fred," George replied.

"Now," Fred said turning with his twin to face me "are you going to be good and dance, or do we have to get serious?" he asked me and from where I stood, with my arms folded against my chest and a torn expression in place, I thought about just running for a second before realising it wouldn't be worth it and groaning in defeat.

"Fine," I conceded as the twins high fived their victory, seeing this I made a show of pointing at George and saying "but just this one dance, and then I've got to talk to the others."

"As you wish, ma lady." George agreed cockily with a mocking bow, which had me laughing and rolling my eyes both.

Anxious to get this over with so that I could warn my friends, but knowing that they were only trying to help me (and amuse themselves) I gave George my hands as Fred headed off to find the Veela cousin he was dancing with earlier. Maybe it isn't tonight, I tried to convince myself even though I didn't believe it for a second, maybe it was after some other event this vision would take place, or maybe it wouldn't be until much later tonight, maybe my friends and I still had time to save ourselves. I could only hope that was the case, but things seemed to be working in my favour for once as very little changed as George and I danced, so much so that I began to relax a little again. The key part of the vision to remember, I told myself, was that it took place away from the Burrow, we were on a city street somewhere when we came across the pub in my vision, and in order for the vision to come to pass we actually had to leave the Burrow and that didn't look like it was happening any time soon.

However, despite all that there was still an anxiousness deep inside me, a squirming unpleasantness in the pit of my stomach, like that feeling you get when you're running late or when you sense that you should be somewhere that you aren't. It was disconcerting to feel like that, especially since the emotion was so strong that even George's attempts couldn't quell it. He joked and teased, danced and laughed but still couldn't snap me from this mood, not completely, though I painted on a smile when I wasn't worriedly scanning the area for something that I'd missed. I was really, really anxious. Grinning goofily George lifted our arms so that I could do a twirl, and feeling childish I span and found my eyes raking over the scene as I did so, getting a 360 of marquee. Spinning my gaze pin pointed Bill and Fleur, lovingly holding each other as they rocked slowly in time to the music, I spotted Lupin and my dear friend Tonks laughing by the side of the dance floor, and she smiled and waved at me. I could see a few Weasley's, but not Ron and Hermione or Ginny and Luna; I spotted Harry sitting pensively at his table and still felt like I was missing something. It was as I returned to facing George that I spotted something.

Over George's shoulder, resting nearby on the back of a golden chair, sat around an empty table, was an owl. A small, speckled Boreal Owl, with large glowing eyes and a letter held proudly in its beak. I'm not entirely sure why the owl caught my attention as much as it did, but it did, I was instantly captivated and I froze where I stood, staring over George's shoulder at the little bird with so much intensity that you'd have thought it was telling me the secrets of the universe. You wouldn't have been far off to think that though. As soon as my gaze landed on the owl I knew that it was what I had been waiting for, that its appearance was important, I could sense an urgency coming from it that I simply couldn't ignore. Which was why I didn't hear George as he said my name, alarmed by the strange and trance like behaviour, and why I completely ignored him as I gently pulled myself from his grip and started towards the owl, which watched me in such a strange and unusual way.

This is weird, I had the presence of mind to think as I crossed the little space between the bird and me, my gaze focusing in on the owl and feeling a strange sense of familiarity as I looked at it, even though I was sure I had never seen it before. Heart pounding with something like anticipation I glanced down at the letter clamped tightly in its beak as I neared the bird, seeing the lines and curves of my name written there in a familiar script that I simply couldn't place. I stopped right in front of the owl, feeling a touch foolish all of a suddenly, it was only and owl and a letter after all, but I still couldn't shake the sense that this was important, and the letter was addressed to me. I reached out and took it from the regal bird, who relinquished it easily, and stared down at my name written on the yellowish envelope, wondering who it was from, apart from my family most everyone who would write to me was here right now. Still in a deep state, focused primarily on the letter and the urgent feel of it beneath my finger tips, I found myself moving slowly to open it, turning it over in my hand and slipping a nail under the seal. Suddenly full of anxiety and a deep need to open the letter and see what was inside. I didn't get a chance to though; my little bubble was promptly and viciously burst.

"The Ministry has fallen." a deep, slow voice said loudly from behind me, snapping me from my trance and causing me, heart pumping violently in my chest, to spin quickly back around. As I did I watched a silver lynx patronus landing gracefully on the dance floor. "Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

**Author note: and now, things are starting to happen (she says hopefully). What did you guys think to that, not too interesting or all that brilliant I know, but still? Oh, and I'd like to thank everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, all your words of encouragement inspired me to produce this, it's dedicated to you all! And also thanks to those of you who read 'Foresight' (the prequel thingy) another chapter is also up for that. :)**


	6. Running

**Author note: wow, this is actually pretty speedy for me, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: once again I own nothing, except Ivy and my other OC's.**

**Chapter six: Running**

**Ivy**

I stood there, rooted to the spot in numb shock for a moment, watching as the silver lynx disappeared and realisation dawned on everyones faces. The Death Eaters were coming. And then, like some self preservation switch had been thrown deep inside them, they all ran. Expressions wide in terror Bill and Fleur's guests ran for their lives, apparating away instantly where they stood, able to do that since the protective enchantments had fallen, or else they were dashing around the frantic swarms on the dance floor, looking for loved ones. Shrill screams reached my ears as everyone panicked but still I just stood there, watching as everyone scarpered with a slight frown in place, unable to comprehend quite what was happening. I understood things on an intellectual level, a part of me knew the Death Eaters were on their way and that I was one of the four people in this place that should be the most afraid, but emotionally all I could feel was confusion. I couldn't make sense of it, how Death Eaters could be coming here, to the Burrow, one of the places I had felt the most safe, the most secure. I knew full well that it was possible, of course they could worm their way into the Ministry, kill Scrimgeour and take down the protective enchantments here, but the image of their horrible masked faces here in a place where I had felt so happy, went so far against the grain that I didn't want to accept it.

I had to though. I broke from my trance when a screech sounded from behind me and I quickly turned to see the tiny speckled owl take off into the night, probably frightened by all the madness ensuing here now. And then it clicked with me, everyone here was in danger, when I turned back to the throngs of running, terrified people I didn't feel numb, I felt frightened myself. No one here was safe, they had to get away, I thought with horror as the people in front of me screamed and cried and shouted. Fear gripping tightly at my battered heart I felt a sliver of determination course through me before I quickly bent down, lifted up the skirt of my dress and pulled my wand from my makeshift holder strapped to my leg. I came back up, gripping my wand tightly and preparing to defend myself, when I remembered the letter I still clutched in my other hand. How important it had seemed only moments ago, I thought as I looked down at my name written on the envelope, it would have to wait. With that in mind I reached back down, pulled up my skirt a second time and slipped the envelope uncomfortablely beneath the elastic on my leg.

As I rose I scanned the crowd, my worried brown eyes searching for my friends, none of whom I could see any more, I didn't recognise a soul in the frenzied crowd, I couldn't even see George, who had been standing behind me when I had gone to get the letter. Desperate to find them I ran forwards and dived straight into the insanity of the crowd, people apparating, pushing and screaming on my every side, but even in amongst this I had only one thought in mind, finding the others.

"Harry!" I called as loudly as I could over the noise of the crowds, but their own shouting drowned me out.

"Ron!" I shouted forcing my way through a group of hysterical witches and standing on my toes to try and see over heard, I searched for the distinctive red hair, black locks (or rather red since I doubted the Polyjuice potion would have worn off yet) and busy waves of my friends but saw nothing.

"Hermion-" I cried but was cut off as a large terrified wizard banged into me, knocking my shoulder and causing me to jerk off path. Recovering I began to feel true despair, where were they? What if I couldn't find them? I worried franticly as my head shot from right to left and I span on my feet, terrified and searching for my friends.

What if I lost them? I wondered as I tried to push myself through the throngs, I couldn't bear for that to happen, not now.

"Ivy!" A familiar voice shouted, shocking me from my thoughts and causing my head to snap up like a meerkat at the sound. Could it be?

"Ron?" I called back, turning in the direction the voice had come from and starting towards it, just as black shapes started to appear around the edge of the dance floor and the screams of the guests grew louder.

When Ron pushed his way around another unfamiliar wizard I almost let out a bubble of hysterical laughter, I was so happy to see him. Relief flooded his features as he reached for me and took my hand in his, so we wouldn't be separated by the buffeting crowds. However, his relived expression didn't last long.

"Where are the others?" he shouted, since even though we were stood side by side the noise of those around us was still great.

"I don't know," I replied, feeling my worry return as jets of light shot over our head and then suddenly Tonks burst through the crowds, her bright pink hair billowing behind her and catching my eye.

"Tonks?" I shouted at her questioningly as she turned, looking horrified to see us just standing there.

"Get out of here, Ivy," she yelled, gesturing with her arms for us to go as there was a loud bang and something behind us exploded with the force of a spell colliding with it, we all flinched. "Run, now, the lot of you!"

"Come on," Ron urged, his voice squeaky with frantic worry "we've got to find the others."

I nodded in response to both their words and Tonks looked a little bit reassured before she charged onwards into the crowds, wand held tightly. "Be careful!" I shouted after my friend, not liking that we were leaving her and everyone else here but knowing we had no choice.

Ron and I took off then; ploughing through the crowds of people who were still running until we heard our names shouted over the tops of heads and looked at each other, it was Harry and Hermione. Anxious to get to our friends we headed in the direction the voices had come from, and pushing past a few more terrified people, we found them, Hermione in terrified tears and Harry looking horrified. We waisted no more time, Ron quickly reached out and took the hand Hermione wasn't using to hold Harry's, and she apparated.

The weight of the world seemed to bear down upon me then, pressing from each and every side as the uncomfortable sensation of apparation took hold of me. Feeling as though I was being squeezed through a tight pipe, and as though all the insanity and fear at the Burrow had finally reached its peak and was crushing us all, I held my breath and felt as though I might shatter underneath this new pressure, before I finally there was some relief. When I opened the eyes I hadn't been aware I'd closed, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were standing in what appeared to be a busy Muggle street, holding hands. Breathing frantically I looked around me for a split second, taking in the encompassing and never ending grey colouring of the street, the sounds of cars speeding by us and the thick, choking smell of exhaust fumes, I felt my heart stutter in panic as realisation dawned on me. This was the street from my vision, I thought as I felt my eyes widen. We weren't out of the woods yet.

All of that occurred to me in the briefest, most sobering of moments, and before I could utter so much as a word to the others I felt myself being pulled forwards, Ron's damp hand still clutching tightly at my own and Hermione leading us diligently forwards. Feeling the heavy weight of curious eyes upon us, since we were still dressed in our dress robes, I couldn't even bring myself to feel self conscious, I truly didn't care what they thought, we were in danger.

"Where are we?" Ron asked as we made our way through these new crowds, only they seemed perfectly happy to part for us, what with our obvious weirdness.

"Tottenham Court Road," Hermione said over her shoulder at Ron, as she continued to lead the way "walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere for you to change."

And we did, hurrying down the street and trying to look as inconspicuous as we could, which was difficult considering how brightly Hermione and I were dressed and the fact that Harry and Ron wore dress robes. When compared to the darkly and conservatively dressed Muggles we stuck out like a sore thumb. Making our way past bordered up shops, crowded bus stops, and trying to ignore a few drunken men gathered outside a pub across the street, Ron told Hermione that he didn't have anything to change into. Harry also commented on forgetting the Invisibility Cloak, angry with himself for not thinking ahead, and I couldn't help but think about all my things that I'd left at the Burrow, my photo album, the plant book, the memory vial, what would I do without them? The only things I had on my person were my wand, the ring and that letter, and the later two were of no obvious use for me. Hermione however seemed unfazed, she told us that she had the cloak and clothes for them to change into, the others looked at her as though she were mad, since all she carried was her tiny beaded bag and it seemed impossible that anything would fit in there. I however looked suspiciously but proudly at my friend, sensing that she had something up her sleeve.

And she did, Hermione had cast an Undetectable Extension Charm on her bag and had packed not only some spare clothes and the cloak, but everything we had wanted to bring with us.

"So that's why you wanted by rucksack," I said, impressed and remembering how she had found me in Ginny's room earlier and taken it "you wanted to add it to the bag."

"Exactly," she said as she rummaged through the bag, her arm disappearing up to the elbow as she reached around for some items, it was a strange thing to see without a doubt.

By this point Hermione had pulled us off the busy street and down an alley way, and Ron was changing into a pair of jeans and a jumper, gushing about how amazing Hermione was and causing her cheeks to pinken a little. Standing watch, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ears and wondered about how best to tell them what I'd seen in my vision, because I had to tell them, and soon. However, I couldn't think how to do it, for some reason just coming out and saying it didn't feel right to me, I was worried I would only panic them all even more. So, when Ron was changed, Harry was covered by the cloak and all three were stood by my side at the entrance of the alley, we took off again. Heading once again down the busy street, Hermione and I the only ones who might draw attention to our group, but given we were only wearing dresses we appeared to be safe. I was nervous though, my gaze kept flicking over my shoulder as though I half expected to find a gang of hooded figures following us, and I griped my wand tightly, pressing it discreetly against the palm of my hand and the inside of my arm, to keep the Muggles from seeing it. I suddenly decided that I didn't care if it didn't sound right then, I had to tell the others what I had seen, however by this point we had already come to a stop.

"Where now?" Ron asked a little nervously, still effected by what had just happened, and as worried as the rest of us about the others and also for ourselves.

Pulled up short by our abrupt pause and previously so lost in my thoughts that I was momentarily surprised by the change of scenery, we were only a little way down the road, I realised, standing outside another grey building with wooden beams. The sound of a pub sign creaking overhead reached me and I stiffened.

"In here," Hermione suggested taking a step towards the Hangman's Noose.

Afraid and not about to let her go in there I quickly reached out and grabbed her arm "No!" I hissed as I pulled her back, Hermione's eyes wide with shock and Ron looking at me with much the same expression, I couldn't see Harry since he was under the cloak, but I could feel him nearby. "I had a vision about this place," I told them in a quick and quiet whisper "a bad one."

"What happened?" Hermione asked and I shook my head, not wanting to stand outside this pub for a second longer, not now that I knew what was waiting inside.

"Not here," I said before starting to walk again, still holding Hermione's arm and guiding them all quickly down the street. When I felt I was a safe distance from the pub I said, "There are Death Eaters in there, waiting for us." Hermione gasped loudly then and I watched as Ron's face paled dramatically.

"H…how?" He stammered, once again terrified beyond belief "how could they know we'd come here?"

"I don't know," I said as I ploughed on, my heels clicking smartly on the pavement as we went and a determined expression in place, I would keep my friends safe from these monsters. "I think maybe they followed us here and just headed straight for the first place they thought we might go, I really don't know. But what I do know is we need to get off the street, they might come out looking for us."

"Right," Hermione said gathering up her courage and holding her head a little higher, resigning herself to this new challenge of finding us somewhere to go.

Ron nodded, a little sheepishly, and I let go of Hermione's arm and together they walked a little way ahead, scouting for someplace safe to go. Trying to maintain constant vigilance, and feeling my heart beat steadily against my fingers, which were once more wrapped around the ring, I sensed Harry move beside me.

"Did you see anything else?" he asked seriously, and trying not to look like I was talking to thin air, I responded.

"No," I said as my gaze flicked over the crowd of pedestrians coming towards us and my ears picking up on the slur of drunken men "I only saw us go into the pub and be attacked by Death Eaters," I said quietly before risking a glance in the direction I knew Harry would be and adding "I couldn't let us go in there, Harry," in a pleading kind of voice "I didn't see the end, but I just know that we wouldn't have made it out of there."

"It's all right," he said before gently resting an invisible, cloak draped hand on my arm and I smiled a little, glad to have him beside me.

"Where else, where else," Hermione wondered aloud just ahead of us "well, we can hardly book rooms at the Leaky Cauldron," she said ticking that off her safe house tick list "and Grimmauld Place is out if Snape can get in there…I suppose we could try my parents' house, or Ivy's, though I think there's a chance they might check there…oh I wish they'd shut up!" she exclaimed, looking across the street irritably at a gang of jeering drunks and I had to admit, they were getting on my nerves now too.

"All right, darlings?" the loudest most obnoxious man shouted, much to the approval of his drunken friends and I scowled, thinking about how shameless and coarse he was, and unable to stop the image of an upright, pale, blond boy from springing into my head, and considering how he held himself with much more dignity. But, I told myself sternly, I doubted very much that these idiots were murderous, prejudice, monsters.

"Fancy a drink," the slurring man continued "Ditch ginger and come and have a pint!"

"Arse," I muttered with a dark look at the man, who was making mocking oooing noises with his friends as Ron span around the shout something back at him, only to be stopped by Hermione. Though I supposed my sudden curse had more to do with the direction of my thoughts than anything else, though the man across the street did epitomise that word quite well.

Quickly Hermione suggested that we go and sit down, so together the four of us turned into the only place on this street so far that was still open, apart from the pub. Pushing the faded white door of the grubby all night café we stepped inside to the light tinkle of a bell above the door. The café wasn't very impressive, it clearly hadn't been refurbished in a few years, the cream floor tiles were cracked and stained in places, the windows were unwashed and thick with grime and bore messages and drawings sketched by bored teenagers in the dirt there. None of that mattered though, it wasn't too unpleasant and it reminded me a lot of the cafes in the upstairs market back home, and I needed that level of familiarity now.

The café was completely empty, as we made our way across to floor to a booth on the far wall not even a waitress or cashier could be seen. Ron selected a booth and slipped inside after Harry under the cloak, the flash of his trainer as the cloak shifted the only indication of this; I reluctantly slipped in next, across from the boys, disliking being boxed in and also having my back to the door. Hermione sat down next to me, looking equally unimpressed with this arrangement. It was unnerving having your back to the door, especially at a time like this. Once comfortable, or as comfortable as we could be under the circumstances, Ron suggested that we head over to the Leaky Cauldron and Hermione quickly insisted that we shouldn't. They had a little argument over that for a short while, Ron saying that it would only be to find out what had happened and Hermione saying that we knew exactly what had happened, Voldermort had taken over. The four of us then fell into a nervous silence, each of us thinking about of friends back at the Burrow and worrying for them, would they be okay? We didn't know. During this silence the tinkle of the bell reached us across the room, as two thickset workmen entered the café, I watched their progress as they crossed the room, feeling a strange sense of familiarity and feeling even more trapped in this booth than before. I wanted to leave.

"I think we should go," I suggested quietly, leaning into the table as the workmen took seats in the next booth.

"Why?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice in my ear "did you see something?"

"No," I said shaking my head and frowning in confusion "something just doesn't feel good, I want out of here." I said glancing over at the corner where Harry sat, wanting him to agree with me.

"We can't go just yet," Hermione said calmly, even though I appeared to have thoroughly freaked Ron out as once again he looked alarmed. "It would look strange. We'll have something to drink really quickly, and then we'll leave."

"Okay," I agreed even though my stomach refused to settle and I still didn't feel very good about this, however in the interest of keeping ourselves together I reached across the table and gently squeezed Ron's hand. "Hey," I said with a smile "we'll be fine, I'm probably just overreacting."

Ron nodded and I pulled back my hand, even though he looked no more convinced than I did. The miserable looking waitress appeared at that moment and Hermione ordered three cappuccinos, since to buy another for Harry would look strange since he was invisible. I watched over my shoulder as the waitress then sauntered over towards the workmen, who shooed her away rudely, wanting nothing to do with her. Looking very offended she stormed away and began to prepare our drinks.

Once again lapsing into silence my friends and I were left to ponder our own thoughts, anxiously playing with the fabric of my dress I fought to pull my thoughts away from those who had been left behind at the Burrow and turned my mind to the task at hand, finding a safe place for us to go. Hermione was right, there were very few places we could go without the Death Eaters thinking to look, in fact, the only thing that came to mind for me was to check into a Muggle hotel under false names, but surely that would be a massive drain on our finances. However, no sooner had I thought that than I felt my body go stiff with shock, sitting bolt upright all of a sudden I watched all my friends turn their worried gazes to me as my head began to spin and my stomach contracted. Feeling as though I might throw up but knowing that I wouldn't, I felt an otherworldly breeze gust across the front of my brain, my eyes go wide and a vision take me.

I didn't even have the chance to feel stunned by how abruptly the vision had come, my first sight left me and my world faded to black for a few moments before my inner eye took over. The atmosphere in my vision was so different, so far removed from the one I had been in only seconds before that I was momentarily lost, trying to gather my bearings and come to grips with this new scene I realised with a sudden jolt were I was. Grimmauld Place. Feeling my confusion only double in intensity, since Hermione had just said it was too dangerous to go here, I looked around the dark kitchen where I now stood and knew, without a shadow of a doubt that it was Grimmauld Place. I was standing facing the kitchen fireplace, a familiar warming comfort but also a bad memory, as this was the place where Harry had had a conversation with Kreature which had ultimately led to Sirius' death. But this was most definitely the fireplace at Grimmauld Place; I could see the ornate silver Black family ornaments that Kreature prized so much and out of the corner of my eye, one end of the large kitchen we'd sat around so much during our fifth year.

The surprising sound of laughter caused me to turn around, and as I did, much to my shock, I spotted me, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the other end of the kitchen table, eating forkfuls of what appeared to be stew and joking around with each other. Ron was trying to flick a carrot off his fork and catch it in his mouth, while Hermione watched, caught somewhere between amusement and disapproval and Harry and I laughed. In this scene, the kitchen looked almost inviting, no longer dusty and dim, more homely all of a sudden, in an oddly heart warming kind of way.

With that sentiment in mind I was abruptly pulled from my vision, still so lost inside my second sight that when the café scene opened up in front of me again I could still feel the warmth of the fire of my arms and hear laughter ringing in my ears.

"Is she alright?" an unfamiliar female voice asked, half concerned, half cautious, and I assumed that it must be the waitress.

"She's fine," Ron insisted, his pale white fingers wrapped tightly around his steaming mug and his worried eyes fixed on me "she does it all the time."

"Riiiiggghhht," the waitress said in a drawn out kind of way that clearly said that she was washing her hands of us, since we were obviously strange. As she walked away I realised that I was still sitting upright after my vision, which was strange for me of late, and then I noticed the pressure of Hermione's fingers against my arm and realised that she was holding me up with an arm around my shoulder.

"I say we find a quiet place to disapparate," Hermione said quietly by my side, still holding on to me, for which I was grateful since I hadn't fully recovered from my vision yet. "And head for the countryside. Once we're there, we could send a message to the Order."

The other two seemed to agree, and at the moment I was in no position to tell her about my vision, since my head was still spinning so much so that I didn't know what would come out if I tried to open my mouth. Ron asked Hermione if she could make her Patronus send messages and I knew that she could, since we'd learned to do it together. Hermione explained this to the other two and Ron was all for the idea of sending them a message, but only if we didn't get the others into any more trouble.

"Though they might've been arrested already," he added a little morosely before looking down at his mug of coffee in disgust and saying "God, that's revolting," so loud that the waitress heard him and glared it him from across the room, I laughed at his complete and utter lack of tact.

"Let get going, then," he suggested pushing away the mug as though it were a dead thing on the table "I don't want to drink this muck. Hermione, have you got enough Muggle money to pay for this?" he asked and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, I took out all my building society savings before I came to the Burrow," She said as she reached into her bag to hunt down some change.

"I did too," I said speaking for the first time since my vision and causing them all to look up at me "I'll get the next round though, if you don't mind." I said jokingly just before my gaze landed on Ron, who was now looking wide eyed over my shoulder at something, the very next instant he was diving across the table to push an oblivious Hermione down and instinctively I ducked from sight.

The instant I had my head bowed below the table and my arms wrapped protectively over my head, I heard the whoosh of spells flying above and then the distinctive crack of them colliding with the tiled walls. Shattered pieces of pinkish tile rained down on me and I cringed as they cut at my arms, however I couldn't focus on that, my mind was already reeling. Now I knew why those workmen had seemed familiar, why I had wanted to leave so badly when they arrived, they were Death Eaters, possibly even two of the ones from the Hangman's Noose.

As I slowly rose from my crouch, my wand gripped nightly in hand and my jaw firmly set in determination, as I was ready to deal with these sick creatures and not about to let my vision become reality, I heard Harry shout,

"Stupefy!" at the top of his voice. Thankfully he was still hidden under the cloak at the time, and the Death Eaters never saw his attack coming, so looking over my shoulder I was very satisfied to see the large blond Death Eater, the same one I had banged into in the pub in my vision, I realised, topple backwards when the spell hit him square in the face.

The big blonds' companion, a slim wizard with sallow cheeks and dark hair, didn't know where the spell had come from, since Harry was invisible, and took aim at Ron instead, with a nasty expression in place. Seeing this coming I reacted as quickly as I could, raising my wand with the intention of blocking the spell, however looking over the back of the booth chair I was too slow, and black ropes flew from his wand tip and wrapped themselves around Ron. Bound from head to toe Ron fell from his chair and Hermione screamed. Knowing that she would look after him I rushed from the booth after her, just as a still invisible Harry shot another stunning spell, this time aiming for the dark haired Death Eater. His attack missed though, bounced off the grimy window, and shot across the room and hit the terrified waitress, who promptly collapsed on the floor.

"Expulso!" the Death Eater shouted as I took a fight stance, feet spread wide apart and taking aim, by the side of our table. As the spell soared towards me I promptly dived out of the way, hitting the floor the second the spell collided with the table behind ours and listened as the sound of the table and something else hitting the floor, echoed in the café.

Pushing myself up off the floor, hair sticking to the gloss on my lips in strands and chest rising and falling with adrenaline, I took aim as the Death Eater focused in on me.

"Immobulus!" he roared and as a jet of light shot towards me I pushed myself quickly up onto my knees.

"Finite Incantatum!" I cried, blocking the spell and causing the Death Eater to stagger a bit, worried about my friends, none of which were in my immediate eye line, I quickly and nervously scanned the room. I spotted only Harry though, laid out painfully on the floor by the blown up table, clearly having been caught up in the blast. The invisibility cloak had slipped off him and his glasses were askew on his nose.

However, I couldn't just wait and see if he was alright, there was still one Death Eater to go, and so summoning up all my hatred for the group and their master, telling myself that I would get back at them for what they did, I turned back to face him. Despite all that though, I was still unprepared and the recovered dark haired Death Eater already had his wand trained on me. Watching a cruel smile spread across his lips as I realised that I wouldn't be able to defend myself in time, I saw him open his mouth the say the spell that would mean it was all over, already, when suddenly I heard someone shout behind me.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione cried from somewhere I couldn't see and the unsuspecting Death Eater, too distracted by me, was hit right in the chest and fell forwards unmoving.

I turned, just in time to see a frightened looking Hermione crawl out from under a bench, knocking shards of glass from her hair as she went. "Thank you," I said sincerely and she gave me a thin smile in return.

Getting to my feet I dusted down my dress, knowing even as I did that it was a lost cause, all day I had managed to keep it nice and clean but now it was covered in dust, plaster and coffee and snagged in places from all the glass. I didn't really care though; it had never really suited me. Rubbing my stinging arms, managing to smear the spots of blood the tile pieces had drawn down my arms as I did so, I quickly crossed the room to Harry, who was now sitting up, just as Hermione reached Ron.

"D – Diffindo," she said shakily before Ron let out a howl of pain, still incredibly panicked I looked over my shoulder, fearing the worst, but all Hermione had done was slice a bloody hole in his jeans.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Ron, my hands are shaking! Diffindo!" she repeated and this time the ropes binding Ron were cut free.

Meanwhile Harry was snatching up his wand and making his way cautiously across the wreckage of the table and stopping by my side.

"I should have recognised him," he told me as he looked back at the large blond Death Eater "he was there the night Dumbledore died." I nodded sombrely, remembering the destructive force he had been that night.

"It doesn't matter," I said gently "I should have recognised him too, he was one of the Death Eaters in my vision I think, but his face was covered then." Harry gave me a weak smile and we made our way towards the others.

"That's Dolohov," Ron said as we approached, gesturing to the slim Death Eater "I recognise him from the wanted posters. I think that big one is Thorfinn Rowle."

Hermione however didn't think it was so important to be able to put names to faces, though I had to agree with her, and instead wanted to know how the Death Eaters had found us here. Which was the same question I had been asking myself since I had my vision, it didn't seem possible, even if they just followed us from the Burrow, we could have gone anywhere for all they knew. However they had managed to find us somehow and that was definitely worrying. We all looked at each other then, all of us panicking and terrified that more Death Eaters might turn up any second. Gripping my wand even tighter I glanced at the door, imagining that any moment countless other mask wearing fiends would charge in, and who knew who might be amongst them. I tired not to think of that, but failed miserably, his face filled my mind and I soon found myself scowling at the floor, trying to rid him from my thoughts.

Something seemed to click inside Harry then, as I dealt with my demons and Ron and Hermione worried, he quickly assumed his place as leader and kept a level head as he told us what to do. Without hesitation Hermione hurried over to the door to lock it, Ron pulled out the Deluminator and I ran over to the waitress to check she was alright, as soon as Harry told us to. Carefully I turned her over and checked her pulse, just in case she'd hit her head too hard when she feel, but as far as I could see she was fine and I told the others as much. Then the lock clicked shut, the room became suddenly dark and things seemed about a thousand times for sombre when Ron asked what we should do with the Death Eaters, saying that they would kill us were roles reversed.

"We just need to wipe their memoires," Harry said as I heard Hermione cross the room back towards him and I gently lay the woman back down and followed. "It's better like that; it'll throw them off our scent. If we killed them, it'd be obvious we were here."

Relived I found myself agreeing, angry though I was and despite how much I hated all things Death Eater, I didn't think that I could kill them, it seemed wrong and I didn't want to be like them. Ron agreed, sounding just as glad of Harry's decision as I was but admitting he didn't know how to do a Memory Charm, Hermione however understood the theory and volunteered. So with Hermione wiping the witnesses memories and Harry, Ron and I cleaning up the bombsite the café had become, everything was soon back to the way it had been, except that we were scared witless, bruised and homeless. That latter matter was soon addressed though when Harry suggested we go to Grimmauld Place, and at that I remembered my vision, which had been forgotten in all the madness.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!" Hermione disagreed; firmly against our going there as in her eyes it wasn't safe, and while normally I would have agreed with her this time I knew otherwise.

"Ron's dad said that they've put up jinxes against him – and even if they haven't worked, so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!" Harry insisted, though Hermione still looked far from convinced.

"I think we should go there," I said and when Hermione looked at me like I'd gone mad I added "it's what I saw in my vision, the one I had before the Death Eaters attacked us here. I saw all of us sitting in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place and we all looked perfectly safe to me."

"But-" Hermione started to argue, still not sure about this and obviously thinking it was too much of a risk.

"Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got, and if Ivy's already seen us there then it's safe." He said cutting across her and at that she reluctantly agreed

So, with no further discussion we all held hands, Hermione span on the spot and we apparated to Grimmauld Place. Staring up a number twelve we all shared a slightly worried look before quickly crossing the road towards it and taking to the steps that led up to the door, Harry, leading our group, took his wand out when he reached the door and tapped it twice. As we came to a stop by Harry's side we could hear the metallic clicks of the locks opening and then the door swung open on its own, cautious we all stepped inside and shut the door behind us.

At first Grimmauld Place appeared unchanged, only significantly dustier than the last time we had been here, other than that though there was no obvious difference. The House Elf heads still hung gravely on the wall by the staircase, Mrs Black's portrait was still curtained off to silence her harsh tongue and the place was still dark and foreboding. However, something wasn't right, and a keener scan of the room had me noticing that the troll's leg umbrella stand was lying on its side on the floor. For a moment I thought fondly of Tonks, who was notorious for knocking over the umbrella stand, but then what this truly meant dawned on me, someone else had been here. Hermione, thinking the same thing, said as much aloud, and a thoroughly unconvinced but hopeful Ron suggested that someone in the Order had knocked it as they left. Harry however was uninterested and wondered at the protective jinxes put in place to keep Snape out.

The four of us waited for a moment, having expected something dramatic to happen, some dangerous spell that would drive Snape away to shoot out at us, except nothing did. And giving each other questioning looks and wondering if it was a good thing these enchantments seemed not to be working, since it meant that we wouldn't have to counter them, we stepped off the doormat and out into the Entrance Hall. However no sooner than we did than Moody's disembodied voice whispered,

"Severus Snape?" in such a way that it sent shivers down my spine and a rush of fear through me. Pulled and pushed back by the others, who were just as startled, I found myself huddled closely next to my friends on the doormat again.

"We're not Snape!" Harry called out into the darkness and as he did I felt a wave of something chilling hit me and my tongue roll back on its self in the most unpleasant way, it left me coughing. Hermione said, her voice odd from having undergone the same strange experience, that it must have been the Tongue-Tying Curse that Mad–Eye had left for Snape, to keep him from disclosing the location of Grimmauld Place, and Harry took another step forwards.

And wide eyed and terrified we all watched as something moved in the dark shadowy corner of the room, and before any of us could so much a quiver a figure rose up swiftly from the floor, grey and ghostly. Hermione screamed and Mrs Black joined her, I sucked in a breath, feeling cold all over and I heard Ron whimpering beside me. Heart frozen in my chest I watched as the spectral figure, pale and grotesque with a long white beard and hair to match, reaching out for us with one bony arm.

"No!" Harry shouted frightened and rising his wand though it would do him no good, I stared at the approached figure, thinking that it was oddly familiar but not about to dwell on that at the moment. "No! It wasn't us! We didn't kill you-" Harry cried and with that the ghostly figure exploded, blowing back my hair with the generated gust and coating us all in dust.

By my side a trembling Ron was comforting an utterly terrified Hermione and I felt my own shaking subside a bit when I realised who that figure was supposed to be. It was meant to represent Dumbledore, so it must have been a protection for the house against Snape. Feeling reassured, but still shaken, I watched as Harry pointed his wand at Mrs Black, who was still shouting insults from her frame, and magically drew her curtains shut, effectively silencing her.

So, a little shaken, and considering if the ghostly Dumbledore had done anything to deter Snape, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I headed upstairs and settled ourselves in the living room. No one wanted to talk, it had been an incredibly long and difficult day and so we all sat there in silence, Hermione wrapped up in a ball on the sofa, Ron sitting awkwardly and pale faced on the chair arm and me collapsing into an arm chair. I felt numb now, and exhausted, as though all my energy had leaked from me throughout the course of the day and now I couldn't even stand up any more, I didn't want to think, I didn't want to move, I just wanted to sit here and rest. However, nothing was ever that simple.

Harry let out a grunt of pain and clutched his scar, gaining all our worried attention as he told us that he'd felt a flash of Voldermort's anger, and that the Dark Lord was furious. Understandably Ron was alarmed, especially since Voldermort's anger could easily be directed at the inhabitants at the Burrow, so after Ron pestered an irritable Harry for more details, which he couldn't give, and Hermione told Harry that he had to try and close his mind to Voldermort, we decided to send word to the Burrow. However before we could a patronus soared through the window and landed in the form of a weasel on the floor, speaking as Mr Weasley it told us that the others were all safe and not to get back in contact. Overjoyed to hear that his family was safe Ron let out a noise of relief, before taking Hermione up in a hug as she beamed her happiness at him. I meanwhile, relaxed into my seat, feeling a relieved breath rush of me and glad that the Weasley's were all safe, Harry looked much the same as me, since the Weasley's were like family to the both of us, however that didn't last long, something else crossed his face and he cringed.

I watched, suspicious and worried both as Harry frowned and shifted anxiously on his feet, clearly wanting to move, however when he made his escape to the bathroom I let him go untroubled, sensing that he wanted to be alone and knowing that I had to respect that. Once Harry had left the room, soon followed by Hermione who decided that he might need his toothbrush and with Ron inspecting the living room for the best place to sleep, since we had all agreed to spend our first night in here, I felt a little uncomfortable that I had nothing useful to be doing. Shifting on the chair I asked Ron if he needed a hand with anything, and when he politely said that he didn't I pulled my feet up onto the chair and curled up, feeling cold in my flimsy dress in the unheated, derelict room. However, when I pressed my leg against the seat of the sagging armchair there was a rustling sound of crinkling paper, and I could feel something pointed digging into my leg uncomfortably. It was the letter, I realised, remembering that I had strapped it to my leg when the madness started at the Burrow.

Looking around and making sure that no one was watching, because I wasn't sure I wanted the others to see the letter just yet, I quickly pulled up the skirt of my dress, the soft fabric brushing my bare legs as I did so. All tiredness and the unfortunate events of the day momentarily forgotten since I was so intrigued by this letter, the one I had been so drawn to earlier, I eagerly pulled it from the elastic strap and brought it to my lap discreetly. With Ron busy across the room and Harry and Hermione both absent, I quickly turned the letter over in my hand and dipped a nail under the seal, opened it and pulled the letter from the envelope. I really didn't know what to expect as I unfolded the yellowy parchment, I hadn't been waiting for any letters and there really wasn't anyone for me to expect them from, it had crossed my mind that it could be Marcus and Carcia's owl and that the letter could be from my family, but I didn't know. Eager to find out and excited for the first time in ours, I straightened out the parchment, however whatever I had thought the letter might hold, what I saw there was the last thing I had expected. Written there in a hauntingly familiar, elegant script, was one word,

_'Run.'_

**Author note: Hey, I just wanna say a big thank you to my anonymous reviewer JS for her recent reviews for both this fic and 'Foresight', they mean a lot. Lol, darling I couldn't begin to tell you if you're right or wrong, we'll just have to see. ;) I liked the L'amour Locator too; I wanted it to be kind of symbolic that she had her vision when she picked it up again, thanks for picking up on it. :) x**


	7. The price of power

**Author note: This chapter is for those who, like me, are suffering from Draco withdrawal symptoms. Oh and a quick but very important thank you to FerFrie D Blackorchestrafreak and Dark Angel (thanks for the comment, especially the part in Welsh which made me blush) for their anonymous reviews. Enjoy. **

**Chapter seven: The Price of Power**

**"Everything you want in life has a price connected to it." - Harry Browne**

**Draco**

Sitting in a hard backed, emerald green chair in the family library, Draco Malfoy felt confined. He was a prisoner in his own home, despite how the Dark Lord's take over meant he was a free man, that the authorities were not searching for him anymore and he was no longer wanted for his part in Dumbledore's murder. However, regardless all of that he was still restricted to the Manor and could not venture beyond its walls, unless it was on the Dark Lord's orders. This was a precautionary measure from his parents, who were worried that there were people in their world who wanted to get back at Draco for what he had done. Draco didn't doubt that such people existed; in fact he could think of four right now, however he knew he wouldn't be seeing them any time soon, despite the fact that one of the four dominated his thoughts. No, a frustrated Draco was sure that his parents were being ridiculous, yes, there were people out there that hated him and would like to see him suffer, so what? Hadn't people always hated him, before even this? And besides, it didn't matter how much any of them wanted to hurt him Draco knew that none of them, with the possible exception of the afore mentioned quartet, would dare to try anything. He was a Death Eater now, a member of the most feared group in the whole of the wizarding world, it didn't matter if he was only a whipping boy and a joke to them, to the rest of the world he still had the power and the will to bring this most destructive force down on them. Which was why Draco knew he was largely safe from retaliation.

Agitated and sick of staring at the same four walls, Draco began to drum his fingers on the arm of his chair irritably, tired of his parent's ridiculous protectiveness and wanting out of the Manor. Of course there was more to it than that, it wasn't just the house that Draco wanted to escape from, it was the life he had chosen which made him want to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He had finally gotten what he had thought he had always wanted: power beyond measure, beyond anything most every day people could begin to imagine. He need only say the word and anyone who offended him would be hunted down by his fellows and killed, he was feared and hated by his peers, and he was respected by those who were like him but lower down the pecking order. Only now he had all of that he wanted nothing to do with it, he kept to the quietest rooms of the Manor all day and only came out at meal times and when news reached them of the outside world. Now that he'd seen the flip side to his power, the gruesomeness that enabled him to reach it; and not to mention all that he had lost to get here, Draco wished he hadn't bothered, even if he'd never really had a choice. He couldn't be proud of what he was any more, like he had in the beginning; she'd made sure of that. And that frustrated Draco, because the ability to be proud was one of the few comforts he had left, and now even that was denied him.

Staring into the orange flames in the hearth, by which he sat, brows furrowed and resting his chin against his knuckles, a miserable Draco found himself remembering the other week, when the true ugliness of his new world had been revealed to him. He'd suspected that it wasn't worth all he'd sacrificed to get here for a while; he'd been scared witless and physically repulsed when he watched the Dark Lord torture the old Muggle Studies teacher before killing her, he'd been on the receiving end of his master's wrath a few times as well. And nothing had opened his eyes quite like finding himself fearing for Ivy's life, anxiously waiting for news of her, every day since he had left Hogwarts. But the other week would stick in his mind forever, Draco knew that.

He had been waiting, once again, with his family in the drawing room, awaiting news on the attack on the Weasley house. His father and aunt had been beside themselves with excitement, though clearly for different reasons, Lucius Malfoy had always hated Weasley and this was a dream come true for him, having Death Eaters descend on him and his house. Bellatrix, meanwhile, was simply anxious for the Dark Lord to have this great victory over Potter. Draco, on the other had, having returned to the drawing room after doing all that he could to help Ivy, was nervously watching the door, willing someone to come and tell him what had happened. Hours had passed by then and they were still no more informed, and it was beginning to take it toll on him. He couldn't keep still; he kept rubbing his finger where his platinum ring used to be and flicking his narrowed gaze between the door and his scuffed shoes. His mother, meanwhile, was watching him intently, trying to understand her son's obvious worry.

A short while later the Dark Lord had strode imposingly through the doors, all four of them had leapt to their feet in respect and an irritable but obviously excited, Voldermort had bid them to sit back down. The atmosphere was even more uncomfortable with him here and Draco had to work at keeping his thoughts blank, just in case the Dark Lord decided to delve into his mind. Draco had been trying to improve his Occlumency skills, which still fell short of keeping out the Dark Lord, for a while as now there were things on his mind he could do without the Dark Lord seeing, but so far had been unsuccessful. Though, mercifully, the Dark Lord hadn't felt the need to pull THOSE memories from Draco's mind. They were ones he'd like to keep to himself, for the dead of night when Draco could allow himself to remember.

More time passed by awkwardly, and just when it seemed that Bellatrix might bounce through the ceiling with excitement, the Dark Lord might kill one of them just to amuse himself and Draco might cry out in pure frustration as he ripped his pale blond hair from his skull, the doors were thrown open. Thorffin Rowle, a beefy blond Death Eater, shuffled into the drawing room, looking apprehensive.

"What news?" the excited Dark Lord had asked, wanting to hear that Potter and the Seer had been captured and were about to be presented to him, that the assault on the Weasley hovel had been successful. After all, that was why he had left his highly important mission to come back here in the first place, for this.

Watching, silent and all ears from where he sat on the sofa beside his parents Draco willed Rowle to speak, ready to threaten him as the Dark Lord now was, he was so desperate for information. Had his efforts been in vain? Had she gotten away? Looking as though he would sooner be anywhere in the world but here right then, Rowle, who had been amongst those who invaded the Burrow, told the Dark Lord that upon reaching the Burrow they found the place in a panic, despite this though Potter and his friends were spotted just as they disapparated. Using all their skills the Death Eaters had followed them, planning to ambush them, and to cut a long story short, they cornered them in a café and were about to apprehend them, but were beaten and Potter and his friends escaped.

The room fell silent as a cowering Rowle awaited the Dark Lord's response, the Malfoy's all watched with mild disappointment that the plan had failed, but also relief that it wasn't their job to tell their master of this, and secretly wishing to escape from the room now, lest he turn on them too. All the Malfoy's bar one, of course. Forgetting himself Draco permitted himself a sigh of relief and felt his whole body relax, she was safe, it might have been close but she'd gotten away. Words couldn't accurately describe how he felt then, to know that she had escaped and was safe. Up until a few months ago Draco wouldn't have thought he was capable of feeling such immense relief. However, Draco was unfortunately smiling a little to himself when Voldermort, who had been bearing down on Rowle menacingly until the highly audible sigh had reached him, span around and stared at him. Trying not to look obvious Draco corrected his features, setting them into the mask of cold dignity his parents had been wearing seconds before, though both now looked alarmed. Voldermort didn't say anything right away; he only stared at Draco with his piercing red eyes, before returning to look at Rowle and saying, to the others and not the offending Death Eater.

"Leave, clearly I have a lesson to teach."

Rowle let out what was almost a whimper but stopped himself, presumably at the look the Dark Lord was giving him, which clearly said that to cry would be the worst thing Rowle could do right then. Feeling as though it was wise to get out of there as soon as he could, Draco got to his feet with his family and kept his head down and his thoughts empty as he started towards the drawing room door, his mother walking nervously and protectively by his side. He knew that he had slipped up and wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could, however, the Dark Lord had other ideas.

"Oh no, you are to stay, Draco," Voldermort said sinisterly "I have need of you."

Alarmed Draco came to a stop, not about to disobey his new master but not wanting to stay here either, surely the Dark Lord had seen him and perhaps now knew that Draco wasn't totally on his side. Coming to a sudden stop beside him, Draco's mother turned to face her son with beseeching eyes, pleading him to come with her as though Draco had chosen to stay, as though he even had a say in this. However, his father stepped forwards at that point, and with a firm nod at his son, as though telling him to do him proud, guided Narcissa out of the room. Bellatrix, meanwhile, was long gone, though she was somewhat resentful of being torn away from her beloved Dark Lord.

When the door shut behind his family, with a distinct, echoing, bang, which seemed very final to Draco, he slowly turned, head held high but teeth chattering, to face his master. Voldermort was regarding Draco with a dangerously cold expression, there was menace clear as day in his ruby red eyes, however once again he said nothing to Draco and turned to address Rowle. Who under his masters threatening gaze instantly began to babble on about how much effort he had put into trying to capture Potter, how he had almost had him and how this wouldn't happen again. He was oblivious to how his every world only infuriated his master more, but Draco wasn't. Watching sheepishly from the side he could see the animalistic flash in the Dark Lord's eye, the thinning of his lips and his pale, skeletal fingers tightening around his wand. Draco was sure that any second Voldermort would snap and kill Rowle, before turning on Draco and realising the reason why he had been so happy his master's plans had failed. He'd realise how he felt for Ivy. Draco was wrong though, just when the Dark Lord began to really tire of Rowle's excuses and seemed to almost shake with rage, he suddenly calmed, so abruptly and oddly that it scared Draco more than anything else the Dark Lord had done that day. It wasn't natural.

The Dark Lord hissed for Rowle to be silent, calling him pitiful and saying that he needed to be punished for this, for calling his master here over nothing, just to tell him of his failure. In no time Rowle was reduced to a quivering mess on the floor, the burly Death Eater no match for the fear inspired by the mere words spat from this creatures lips. Rowle was a wreck, and Voldermort hadn't even needed to raise his wand. Draco didn't realise that he was trembling until Voldermort turned on him, the full force of his fury still burning in his eyes, all his merciless cruelty displayed there, and Draco knew he was far from out of the firing line. Voldermort then asked a terrified Draco if he had heard of the expression, 'to kill too birds with one stone'. This question didn't require an answer, and while he tried to remain expressionless Draco knew that his face must portray some of his horror, since the Dark Lord smiled and told Draco to get out his wand. For one horrible moment Draco thought that Voldermort wanted to duel him, here and now with Rowle's whimpering as a soundtrack, all because Draco smiled when the Dark Lord's plans failed. However, that wasn't what he wanted, Voldermort wanted to teach both Rowle and Draco a lesson, to demonstrate to them both exactly what they were messing with here and what the price was for anything less than perfect success.

Voldermort made Draco torture Rowle that day, repeatedly. Staring unblinking into the flames in the library fireplace Draco watched in revulsion as the scene continued to replay before his mind in sickening flashes. He could still see how pitiful Rowel had looked as Draco tortured him on Voldermort's orders, how his agonised screams and tearful pleas still rang loud and clear in Draco's ears, he could still feel his own body trembling with fear and disgust at what he was doing. Even the thought of what he had done make him feel physically sick and he was sure he'd never ever forget that, no matter how long he lived, the pain he inflicted in that instant would stay with him forever. It had served him a purpose though, appalling though it had been, he now knew exactly what side he had chosen, and if he ever had any doubts about wanting out, all he had to do was remember that one vile, monstrous moment, where he had tortured another human being. Not that Ivy's face in the forefront of his mind all day every day wasn't a constant reminder of how he wished he'd chosen differently.

Blinking away the memories Draco suddenly found himself restless, he couldn't bear to sit there and think any more, no matter what subject he considered he always found his way back to her, and that was a dangerous thing for the both of them these days. Frustrated Draco quickly pulled himself out of the chair and took off out of the library, gritting his teeth and desperate for something to do, for anything that might distract him. However, there was a distinct lack of such things of late and so Draco headed for his room instead, half wishing that the Dark Lord would give him a task just so that he could get out of the house, though he knew he shouldn't wish such a thing, who knew what he could end up doing. His last job had been easy, well on most levels anyway, there hadn't been much work involved and it had been the last time he had been allowed out of the house.

Ever since Ivy, Potter and the others escaped capture weeks ago, the Dark Lord had stationed Death Eaters outside every place that was known to have a connection to them in any way shape or form. The Leak Cauldron, Grangers old house, Ivy's place, everywhere, just in case they happened to show up there. And as a sort of placation, to appease Draco's family and show that while Draco was a Death Eater laughing stock he was still part of the clique, he had had one shift watching one of these places.

Standing beside his father, who he had been partnered with for this task, Draco had held out no hope of seeing her, or even any belief that she would be where he was guarding, and why should she be? Even Potter wouldn't be stupid enough to come to this place. But apart knowing that it was probably a good thing she wasn't there, that it was safer for her, Draco couldn't help but think, as he stood outside the invisible number twelve Grimmauld Place, that the closeness would be welcome. He had closed his eyes, letting the slight breeze toy with his blond hair beneath his hood, and imagined that she was there, just beyond the closed door, watching him. Of course, he realised that it was beyond unlikely that she would be, not to mention stupid to even think since he was sure someone would have seen them by now if they were, but he had allowed himself that one dream and it had been nice. He'd spent so long away from her, so much so that despite how being there had made him twice as edgy and worried about her and had reawakened all kinds of memories, it was still one of the best days he'd had since he left Hogwarts at the start of the summer.

That had been about a week ago, Draco hadn't been outside the Manor since then and didn't hold out any hope that he would be any time soon, odds where he wouldn't leave until September first, when the time came to return to Hogwarts. And that wasn't exactly anything to look forward to. Nothing would be the same when he went back there, of that Draco was sure, everyone was sure to hate him, even the teachers, for what he had done last year and he knew that even the Slytherin's would treat him differently. Doubtlessly they had all heard about his part in bringing down Dumbledore and what he was, so he knew they would either avoid him like the plague for fear or antagonising him (which was preferable) or they would revere him as some kind of hero for what he did, and that was the last thing Draco wanted. Besides that though, the place would surely feel empty and dull without her, not to mention wrong.

Filled with misery and pessimism, sentiments he believed he had every right to feel, Draco reached his bedroom door and stepped into the familiar room, closing out the rest of the house behind him. As he turned back to face the room he stopped, taking in what he saw there, a simple, elegant room decorated in rich greens, silvers and blacks, with a grand four poster bed, towering wardrobe and very few personal artefacts. In fact, his only personal touch on the room was a few Slytherin banners beside his bed and a book left open on the desk. At the moment his room was particularly untidy, his bed was unmade and the sheets cascaded onto the floor like a shimmering, emerald waterfall, he had neither the will nor the presence of mind to tidy it on a morning. The black painted wooden doors of his wardrobe were left open, revealing the dark clothes within, and also showing the black box, which teetered uncertainly from the shelf inside there. Apart from that there were clothes scattered carelessly on the floor and books laying haphazardly, here and there, most of them open so that their pages bent against the hardwood floor. It was safe to say that Draco's room had never looked so bad, but right then he didn't care at all, he had told the House Elf, Kidda, not to bother cleaning his room any more two weeks ago and it hadn't been touched since then. The Elf had looked unsure when Draco suggested it, but unable to refuse a direct order she had agreed and this mess was now Draco's to contend with. If he ever felt like tidying it, which was pretty unlikely. Thinking back, Draco had next to no idea why he had told Kidda not to tidy his room, it certainly wasn't to give himself something to do because he never had the drive to clean, he supposed though, that it might be out of respect for the Elf and the girl who had always appreciated them. He had been noticeably politer to Kidda of late.

Snapping himself from his thoughts Draco walked further into the room, heading absentmindedly for his desk, where lay the book he had stayed up late into last night reading. He had purchased it on a whim months ago, long before he fulfilled his mission and was confined to the house, during a trip to Hogsmeade, and had only recently been able to read it. It wasn't like he didn't have the time now. A serious expression in place Draco pulled the purple covered book from the desk and held it, almost cautiously in his hands, feeling a touch embarrassed. The book was called Sight Understood, and was an attempt on Draco's part on understanding Ivy's visions, though he had never managed to read it whilst still at school. He hadn't gained much from the book, only the distinct impression that seeing the future was very subjective and that from what he knew of Ivy's visions the form they took was different from most others. Draco promptly snapped the book shut, the bang it made echoing loudly in his room and the blond boy frowned, thinking about what a futile attempt this was, he was being overly morose, sitting here sulking and brooding over her, but really, what else was there for him to do? He was stuck here, hating what he was and what he had done, with only his own thoughts for company. And he really did miss her.

Deciding that now was the time to snap out of his sulk, to make himself stronger and to figure out exactly what he was going to do with his life now, Draco decided to start by tiding his room. Gripping the book tightly in his pale white hand Draco crossed the room towards his wardrobe, once there he reached up onto the shelf and pulled down the black box that had been balanced there precariously. It was about the size of a shoe box but made entirely out of black painted wood, with the runic symbol Aligz (a symbol that looked like a Y with a third stick on the top, or else a man with upraised arms) carved largely on the lid and on the lock. He had bought it in Diagon Alley a few years back with some birthday money, he didn't know why it had stood out to him so much, but it had and Draco had simply had to buy it. It had come in plenty handy since then as well, since the box had many protective enchantments on it so that only the owner could open it, it was also bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside and was where Draco stored all his most private possessions.

Tapping the square, inbuilt lock three times with his wand tip and then gently tracing the Aligz carved onto the lid with his forefinger, Draco heard the distinct, metallic sound of locks clicking open. He waited a moment and sure enough the lid of the box flew back, revealing what was kept hidden inside. Setting the box down Draco reached into it, wanting to organise it a bit so that everything went in properly, and pulled out the only other book inside. This book had a brown leather cover, and sat beside the brilliant purple one looked especially dull, and Draco knew that it was anything but. The brown book was filled with all the coded plans for his mission last year and he very rarely looked in it for that reason, which was also why he had placed the last new addition to his box in there, so that he would be less tempted to look at it. In addition to the note book the box also held Draco's Hand of Glory, a spare vial of the poison he had used last year to spike Slughorn's wine, which had been intended for Dumbledore but had ended up being sampled by Weasley, something that was no great tragedy. And also his Inquisitorial Squad badge. Somewhat surprised to see that, since he had long since forgotten about his stint on the squad, Draco tentatively reached down and plucked the silver badge from the corner of the box and ran his finger across the 'I' engraved there.

Staring down at the badge Draco couldn't help but scoff, remembering how pleased he'd been to receive this, how he'd lorded it over the other students under the command of the toad faced woman, thinking that he knew about power. Really, Draco supposed that that had been the start of all this, those few months of having control over the other students, had sparked a weakness that had landed him where he was now. Holding the badge by pressing his fingers against its sharp top and bottom he lowered himself onto his bed, thinking about how simple things had been back then, before all this started, how stupid and ignorant he'd been, and he wished that he could go back. He'd sooner be there, patrolling the corridors and falling out with Ivy every other conversation then here dealing with all this.

She'd hated the Inquisitorial Squad too; he thought pensively as he turned the badge to catch the light streaming through his window, she'd made her thoughts on Draco's first steps towards power perfectly clear when she found him after he'd abused his new right to her friends.

"Did you honestly need to do that?" she had asked him, hands on hips and an unimpressed expression in place.

"Do what?" he had asked innocently from where he was polishing his new badge, though he was looking at her with an amused expression that caused her to roll her eyes and set her jaw.

Draco had been surprised that she had come looking for him, as ever since he had helped to expose their little spelling club, Dumbledore's Army or whatever they had called it, and landed them all in detention she hadn't spoken to him once, not even to insult him or tell him she'd get him back. She just glared at him, furious betrayal in her expression. But he hadn't all that bothered to be honest, it made a nice change not to have her nagging at him all the time about being nicer to people and criticising him for the way he behaved. Though that said, he had felt a little odd of late, what with her silence, since he'd started to get used to having her around and talking to her from time to time, so it had been slightly strange not to see her.

Ever since the Yule Ball the year before, when they had managed to work together like they had to get back at their dates for abandoning them, Draco and Ivy had had a strange kind of truce. It hadn't happened right away, in fact the very next day Draco had laughed and jeered with his friends as she scuttled around the floor with Potter to help him pick up some stuff he had dropped, or rather that Draco had knocked from his arms. But things had changed between them gradually, a sort of mutual respect had been built, neither one agreed with everything the other did, and they weren't exactly best friends since they still argued like cat and dog, but a kind of friendship had been forming. Draco wasn't bothered though, losing all Ivy's whining wasn't any great loss and he'd hardly thought of her since he watched Parkinson dragger her, struggling, towards Umbridge and her punishment. But it was weird, being without her.

It didn't matter though now, Draco decided, she'd clearly gotten bored of her strop since she was talking to him again, and everything would return to the way it had been before. He was wrong of course.

"You know what," she said irritably "docking points like that, just because you felt like it and acting like the big I am, all because Umbridge stuck THAT," she gestured disgustedly at the badge "on your chest and gave you free reign to be as big a prat as you want."

Draco frowned, not appreciating her words "they deserved it," he said adamantly "and I deserve to finally be recognized for once, to not have to watch as everyone fawns over Saint Potter. It's disgusting and it's about time someone who knows what they're doing is in charge around here, and I'm going to make sure that everyone gets EXACTLY what they deserve." He said with slight tone of menace in his voice and a firm look in her direction, which allowed him to glimpse the furious expression she now wore and the fire dancing in her chocolate eyes. Ivy hadn't been happy.

"Is that what you call talking points from Harry because you don't like him, and from Ron because his shirt was untucked? Giving people what they deserve?" she asked, her tone clipped and angry.

"That's exactly what it is, Jones," he replied without a moment's hesitation and only mildly taken aback by how seriously she was taking this, he hadn't even said anything to her; he had only taken points from the others. "The people in this place are learning their rank, finally."

"And what about Hermione?" Ivy asked her arms tightly folded against her chest and her foot tapping furiously on the floor. "Do you think taking points from her because she's a Muggleborn is what she deserves?" she asked him, her eyes fixed intently on him, as though the answer was vitally important.

Unsure of what she was getting at, since he'd already said what he thought, and losing interest in this conversation Draco answered with a snappy "didn't you just here what I said? Of course it's what she deserves, she's a Mudblood." He said and Ivy, who had looked as though she had been slapped, recoiled before narrowing her gaze at him as a steady red colour built up on her cheeks.

"Well what about me then?" she exclaimed, looking twice as enraged as she had before and meeting his gaze with her furious one and talking a meaningful step towards him "I'm exactly the same as she is, you know my parents are Muggles, why didn't you, the big, powerful and infinitely superior, inbred Pureblood take points from me as well? It's only what I deserve after all, vile mongrel that I am!"

Momentarily stunned Draco could only watch as she seethed, her hands balled in fists as she stared at him with such hatred. However, his silence didn't last for long and not about to be yelled at by her Draco scowled right back and said, annoyed by her questions and anger, "Very well, Jones, if that's what you want I'll take another ten from you." he said in a patronising tone as he waved his hands in the air "Will that make you feel better?" he shouted at her through narrowed eyes, hating how she thought she knew better than he did, that she had the gall to come here after not speaking to him for days and talk to him like this. He didn't have to put up with it.

"Fine," she spat through curling lips "heaven forbid you should have any kind of decency!" she hissed before throwing him one look of intense hatred and storming off, leaving him seething with what he saw as the injustice of her actions.

Looking back Draco could now see what she had wanted, Ivy had come looking for him because of how he'd treat her friends, but also because she wanted him to take back his comment about Muggleborns, and of course he had instead insulted her. Draco wasn't ashamed of what he had done that day, he knew he could never take it back and there so there was no point in feeling that way, compared to other, more recent things, it was nothing short of insignificant, but that day had been his very first taste of what it truly meant to enrage Ivy. Her hatful expression that day had been subconsciously stored away in his memories, he could see it clear as day now, and also knew that it paled in comparison with the look of utter loathing she had worn when he was trying to escape Hogwarts with Snape last year. This was all he needed to know to be sure she'd never forgive him. She'd let him off with all the (in her words) horrid things he did to their fellow students, she'd pushed aside the time he turned her and her friends over to Umbridge, she'd even forgiven him for lying to get into her house so that he could find out things about her for the Dark Lord. Draco knew it was too much to ask that she would forget this also, it went too badly against her morals, and he knew she felt betrayed.

However, as he stared down at the silver badge in his hand another memory surfaced, one of the first times he had began to regret his decisions, only slightly. That day when the DA had been exposed had not been the only time Draco and the Inquisitorial Squad had had a run in with Ivy and her friends. When Umbridge found out that Potter had snuck into her office she had ordered Draco and the other members of the squad to accompany her, she ordered the others to round up any of Potter's accomplices they could find and Draco and Millicent had headed for Umbridge's office to apprehend Potter. Draco had been elated by this turn of events, unthinking he was hoping that Potter would finally get what he deserved and he was over the moon that he would be there to see it happen. So, with Millicent restraining Granger and Umbridge yanking Potter from the fireplace, where he had been sat with his head in the flames, and shouting at him shrilly, Draco thought that all his Christmas' had come at once as he lent against the doily draped windowsill and twirled Potters wand between his fingers. Positively glowing with glee as Umbridge threw Potter away from her, he looked up as the door to her office opened, wanting to catch a glance at all Potter's friends disappointed faces, but he saw something else entirely.

The very first thing his gaze landed on was her, he had no idea why because she wasn't the first to be dragged in, but his eyes skimmed over Granger, the two Weasley's, Lovegood and Longbottom and came to rest on her. For reasons that he couldn't fully understand Draco at the time, he felt something stir inside of him and he straightened up to watch as Ivy was dragged into the office, struggling fiercely as Pansy pulled her, the Slytherin girl's sharp nails knotted harshly in the Gryffindor's hair as she tugged carelessly. Ivy looked livid, and were she not gagged Draco knew she would be shouting furiously, she tried to claw at Pansy's hands to get her to release her hair, but the other girl refused and with a cruel smile only tugged all the harder. They came to a stop in front of Umbridge and Pansy wrapped one of her sharp claws around Ivy's wrist to restrain her as she fought in vain to escape. Draco, who had been too busy focusing on her, hadn't noticed that Warrington, who was pushing Weasley about, was speaking.

"…tried to stop me from taking her," Warrington pointed at the Weasley girl "so I brought him along too." He said with a look at Longbottom.

"Good, good," Umbridge said cheerfully as Draco violently shook himself and tried to remain unmoved, Ivy was only getting what was coming to her after all, it was what she deserved. "Soon Hogwarts shall be a Weasley-free zone."

Draco laughed loudly, trying to act more like himself and hating that he was allowing himself to waver, this was what he wanted, Potter and his friends taking down a peg or two, and she was the same as them. At the time he hadn't known that Ivy could never be the same as anyone else to him. So, pushing aside all charitable thoughts, he turned proudly to Umbridge, who was smiling at him approvingly, adamant to ignore whatever his problem was.

"Pansy," Umbridge said sweetly as she turned to face her "go and tell Mr Filch that we will have seven additions to our detention group tonight, so he will have to get out more of my special quills."

"But," Pansy stammered, looking disappointed and distinctly annoyed "what about Jones?" she asked giving a violent pull on Ivy's midlength locks which caused the Gryffindor girl to mutter something that was surely an insult behind her gag and her scowl to deepen. "Don't you need me to hold her?"

"Draco can do that," Umbridge said in the same sickly tone as before, though it was plain to see she was on the edge of her strange calmness, she was furious. However Draco didn't take much note of that, he was too stunned, his eyes were wide for a second but he then narrowed them, unwilling to perform this task. Umbridge could go jump back in the pond she had hopped out of, he wasn't doing that. "I need him to stay here, and I have asked you to go." She said threateningly and seriously.

"I don't want to," he told her quickly, disgust in his voice and about to offer to go in Pansy's place, but he couldn't do that, he couldn't miss out on this. "It's not my job to hold her, I'm in charge of them, get one of the others to do it."

"There is no one else who can," Umbridge told him somewhat sternly, annoyed that he was showing her up in front of her captives, he knew it implied that she wasn't in control of the situation but he refused to restrain her, he wouldn't. "And while you may be in charge of this little group, I am your Headmistress, do not forget that Mr Malfoy." She snapped in her high falsetto and Draco scowled, folding his arms across his chest disobediently. Umbridge turned to Pansy "giver her to him then."

Looking deeply offended and muttering obscenities Pansy dragged a struggling Ivy forwards, it seemed she was no more eager to be near Draco than he was her, and pulling Ivy up roughly by her hair Pansy threw her at Draco, so that he had no choice but to open his arms and catch her, lest they both fall over.

"Fine!" Pansy exclaimed as the pushed Ivy "there, take her!"

And with that she promptly turned around and stormed off, slamming the office door behind her to illustrate her displeasure and causing Umbridge to shake her head, not that Draco noticed. He was busy trying to hold on to a furious Ivy who looked as though she'd sooner bite her own arm off than have Draco hold it, her big chocolate eyes were hard as stones as she shot daggers at him and tried to throw off his grip. He wouldn't let her go though, as much as he might want to, he turned her around so that her livid gaze was turned on Umbridge and held onto both of her arms to restrain her. This was easier said than done as appalled that he had forced her to turn around, Ivy was now purposefully stepping on Draco's feet, causing him to wince and cringe, though he couldn't get her to stop. With Ivy standing in front of him, her brown hair a tousled mess right before his nose and a faint citreous smell rising from her skin, Draco barely noticed as Umbridge interrogated Potter. He was filled up with such as disconcerting mixture of annoyance, physical pain, and distraction. Snape came and went and they both watched as Umbridge deliberated over using the Cruciatus Curse on Potter to get him to speak, which Draco would have very much liked to see. Ivy's struggling picked up again at the suggestion of harming Potter though, and in addition to dispersing all her weight downwards onto Draco's toes, on which she now stood, she struggled again to yank her arms from his grip. In response Draco tightened his hold on her, which he had gradually been lessening, and pulled her against his chest, so that she didn't have as much room to move. She made a revolted noise at the proximity, but Draco did nothing to move her away from him.

"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" Granger cried as Ivy continued to fight Draco, squirming against his chest and muttering behind her gag.

And after that Ivy's struggles only became fiercer as Umbridge revealed that she had been the one to send Dementors after Potter during the summer, under normally circumstances Draco would have laughed, as he had frequently mocked Potter for the effect to Dementors had on him, but she didn't as Ivy came dangerously close to breaking free of his hold. However she stilled when Granger started shouting about having to tell Umbridge something, Ivy froze under his grip and turned to look at her friend, which Draco took to mean that she was annoyed her friend was telling their secret. However he couldn't see the confused look on her face as Hermione told Umbridge that they had been trying to contact Dumbledore, that they were trying to tell him some weapon or another was ready. He had been alarmed at that, and had taken Ivy's seemingly shocked stillness and the looks on the rest of the captive's faces to mean what she said was true; Dumbledore had them trying to build a weapon.

Umbridge then commanded Potter and Granger to show her this weapon, and Draco suggested that some of the squad go with her to protect her, since it might have been dangerous and if Umbridge died her squad would be disbanded, but she refused, saying she didn't need them. Disappointed not to have an escape from his new duties, since if he'd gone with her he might have escaped having to restrain Ivy, who he was now holding on to loosely around her wrists, though she seemed not to notice, she was too busy looking with earnest at her friends.

Potter, Granger and Umbridge left and no sooner had they closed the door behind them than twin wicked smiles spread across Millicent and Warrington's faces.

"Look's like it's up to us to punish them then," grinned Warrington as he pulled roughly on Weasley's arm, causing him to stagger "and I've got a few hexes I've been dying to try."

Millicent and the rest of the squad laughed then, drawing their wands and relishing in the position they had found themselves in, alone with a group of defenceless students that every since one of them hated. Draco was torn, part of him wanted nothing more than to join in with the fun and disfigure Potter's pathetic friends so badly that they'd never think themselves better than the rest of them again. But at the same time, he knew that to do that involved hurting Ivy too, and for some strange reason that idea didn't sit well with him, he kept thinking of their fragile friendship and how he kind of missed having her around. However, before he could even begin to war with himself over what to do next, or begin to regret finding himself in this position, before even one of the squad members could aim a single spell at their prisoners, something happened none of them were expecting. Weasley and Weasley pulled their wands and in the very next instant Warrington and Millicent were on the floor, stunned. Draco didn't see what happened next as making the most of his surprise, Ivy ripped her right arm from his grip and elbowed him sharply in the chest, he recoiled from the pain, clutching at where she had hit him, but she wasn't finished. Yanking her other arm free Ivy quickly knocked Draco's legs out from under him and he fell to the floor, taken completely by surprise he hadn't even the presence of mind to pull his wand. As he fell against the cold stone she ripped the gag from her mouth and took out her wand, turning her back on him and crying,

"Expelliarmus!" and sending Crabbe's wand flying from his hand before he could jinx the Weasley girl as he was planning to.

"Stop them!" Draco shouted angrily at his fellows, embarrassed that Ivy had escaped him and knowing this wouldn't bode well for him with Umbridge, he got to his feet only to see that the rest of the squad was on the floor unconscious, even Longbottom had taken one of them out.

Stunned and pulling his wand from his pocket Draco was about to take aim when Ivy rounded on him, freezing him to the spot with her furious gaze, her eyes daring him to attack but also warning him of what the consequence would be. He didn't get a chance to decide what to do; the Weasley girl hit him with a Bat Bogey Hex and the next thing he knew he was fighting off great, green flapping things as they attacked his face.

"Come on," He heard Weasley's voice urge from by the window "we can still catch them."

"If we hurry," he heard Ivy agree from where he sat battling the Weasley girl's curse, furious and swearing revenge.

He heard footsteps then as he writhed on the floor and he knew his face was surely red with mortification and annoyance as the Weasley's, Longbottom, Lovegood and Ivy made their escape. However, he didn't know if he was imagining this, but as he pulled a slimy green bat from his face Draco was sure he caught a gimps of Ivy by the door, hesitating. But looking back he knew he had all been in his mind, as the next second she was gone, and Draco was left where he was, fighting off bogie bats, alone but for his unconscious friends and humiliated.

Retuning to the real world Draco was still red faced and annoyed, but he knew that what had happened was the price he paid for betraying Ivy like he had then, they had been friends and he had hunted down her friends and her, and treat her like an animal in Umbridge's office, despite how he hadn't really wanted to. Retribution was only to be expected, when you crossed Ivy Jones. And so it was this time, it wouldn't matter how his actions last year still tormented him and that he was in a living nightmare right now, Draco knew that given a chance Ivy would extract her revenge on him for what he did to her. Only in his current state of missing her like he did, Draco didn't know if that was something to look forward to or dread.

Sighing Draco got to his feet and ran a hand through his pale blond hair as he walked back to where he'd left the black box and began to repack it, his thoughts still on his behaviour in his fifth year, and thinking that it would be a thousand times better if that was the worst thing he had ever done. He'd take a hundred elbows to the ribs and years of Ivy being angry with him just to escape this misery. But of course that wasn't an option, this dark and dismal place was his to inhabit now, like it or not, and he certainly did not. He was stuck here, like a sinner spending an eternity in the depths of Hell, because she would never forgive him. His only hope, he thought as he hid the silver badge under his Hand of Glory and shut the black box lid, was to carry on as he was. He knew now what he had to do with his life, unlike in his fifth year after the incident with the Inquisitorial Squad, Draco wouldn't wait for Ivy to forgive him for what he had done, this time he would earn her forgiveness.


	8. Stunned

**Disclaimer: Again I say I do not own the HP characters, story lines, or quotes that I have borrowed, purely for entertainment purposes.**

**Chapter eight: Stunned**

**"There's a fine line between love and hate. Love frees a soul and in the same breath can sometimes suffocate it." — Cecelia Ahern**

**Ivy**

It was cold up here. A brutal winter wind blew harshly, holding me tightly in its chilly grip and howling in my red and stinging ears, but still, neither myself nor my companion made any move to leave. Standing a little way away from him I looked over the battlements of the tower, taking in the familiar, snow covered scene below with longing, but knowing even as I was here that this wasn't real, I could touch nothing here, for me all of this was just a beautiful mirage, tempting and far out of my reach. I wished that I didn't know that though, despite the bleakness of this scene I wished with all my might that it was real, because I'd sooner be here and half frozen, than stuck in the exile I lived in now. However, wishing never got you anywhere, and this wasn't my life any more.

Closing my eyes I took a deep breath, breathing in the icy air and stood still, feeling the chilly breeze blow my hair back off my face and clear my mind a little. Opening my eyes again I unwillingly turned back to face my unknowing companion, my eyes drinking in the sight of him despite my reluctance. He was sat on the stone floor, his legs drawn up close to his chest and his arms wrapped around them; he rested his chin on his knees and stared ahead blankly, not seeing the ancient battlements, grey skies and distant mountains. Instead, his thoughts were a thousand miles away, somewhere that I couldn't follow them, though, that was probably for the best. Feeling calm, unusually so in fact, I turned my back on the wintery landscape behind me and crossed the tower, heading towards where he sat under the shelter, the thick layer of snow that rested on the stone floor unmoving under my feet, as I wasn't really there.

Coming to a stop right in front of him I crouched down, lowering myself onto the unforgiving floor and watching him intently, taking in his every detail, from the way the howling wind ruffled his silvery blond hair, to the way his furrowed brows caused his forehead to crease. He must be cold, I thought, noticing that he wore nothing more than a plain black cloak thrown over school robes, which surely wouldn't be enough to keep him warm. He didn't seem to mind though, and aside from the slight bluish tinge of his lips, he had no visible reaction to the harsh weather. He was too lost in thought, I decided, observing the distant look in his eyes from close up. Whatever he was thinking about, whatever it was that had brought him up here in the first place, it seemed that it was far more important that the threat of pneumonia.

Then his blue lips twitched and a violent shiver ran through him, and despite how he couldn't see me, how I was only a spectator, I reached out for him. I don't know why I did it, probably because I knew that it wouldn't have an effect on him, and because regardless of everything that had happened it was still hard for me to see him suffer. But whatever the reason, I reached out with my warm finger tips, brushing them against his cheek before gently cupping it, a tender simile on my face. Even though here I was only a shadow, I could still feel how cold he was beneath my touch, as much as I could feel the winter wind whipping at the back of my neck, he was frozen. However, I didn't sit there with my hand on his face for very long, a second at most as he suddenly jumped. Shocked myself I sprang backwards, pulling myself along the floor away from him, as wide eyed my formerly oblivious companion looked around, back straight, expression confused and alarmed, and still unable to see me. Chest rising and falling with astonishment I watched as he looked around, searching for someone he couldn't see, and then, with a surprising jolt I was shocked into a knew scene.

It was just a flash, the briefest of seconds, a glimpse, but it still frightened me. There was a rush of sound, colour and fear, a hiss, a scream, and the glitter of fangs in a wide mouth coming towards me, and then it ended. Gone as quickly as it had come.

I awoke with a start then, jumping in my bed the same way you do when you fall in a dream, it felt as though I had just collided with the mattress. Springing up right and breathing heavily I looked around, relived to find that I wasn't standing in the snow on the Astronomy Tower, or being attacked my a monstrous creature, but was rather in one of the spare rooms in Grimmauld Place. Running a hand through my damp hair to pull it off my face, I looked across the room at Hermione as I tried to calm down my shaking and my erratic breathing, and spotted her sleeping soundly in her own bed, which meant that this time it hadn't been so violent as to wake her. Good, I thought as I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, I hated lying to her when she asked me what I had been dreaming about. My gaze flicking around the darkened room Hermione and I had claimed, I picked out its key features, the tall wardrobe standing imposingly across from me, the chest of draws on which Hermione's beaded bag sat, the gold gilded mirror on the right wall Hermione and I had had to cover with a blanked because it insulted our 'inferior' birth, every time we looked in it. It was a fairly simple, bare and impersonal room, but of late it had been Hermione's and mine so I had developed at bit of a fondness for it.

Untangling myself from the sheets, which told me I had been thrashing about again, I lay them flat on top of me and rested my head back down against the pillow, though even as I did it I knew I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep now, I was too wide awake. So, abandoning all attempts at sleeping, I instead threw back the covers, made the bed up again, grabbed my necklace from the bedside table, and crossed the room quietly towards the door as I put it on. Expertly navigating around all the creaky floorboards, I opened the door cautiously so as not to wake Hermione, since it still felt pretty early. Slipping out onto the landing I ignited my wand tip, even though I was no longer frightened by the looming shadows, dark corners, and grotesque ornaments of the house, it was still safer to walk about with a light, lest I trip over something. Heading downstairs, losing all the remnant cold I felt from my vision (because I knew that was exactly what that was) thanks to the warm September temperature and familiarity of the house. Passing the decapitated Elf heads without so much as a cringe I tip-toed past Mrs Black's portrait and crept down the last fight of stairs and into the kitchen. The fire in the hearth was lit, but Kreature wasn't in his cupboard, so I assumed he was off doing some early morning cleaning or lighting the rest of the fires, since the clock by the cooker read five o'clock.

Yawning into my hand I pulled the kettle towards me, filled it with water and set it above the fire to boil, before setting about grabbing a cup, a tea bag, sugar and the tea pot. With the kettle boiled I made myself a cup of tea, adding two teaspoons of sugar instead of my usual one, since I was sure I'd need it today. I sat down at the kitchen table with my mug and the tea pot, careful to avoid setting either down on the sheets of parchment that littered it. Blowing the hot liquid and causing the rising steam to swirl, I finally allowed myself to think about that vision again. It was becoming troubling now. The vision was reoccurring, maybe not every night, but most nights I would see the same thing, which convinced me, along with the strange sense that I don't belong their that I got, that it was a vision and not a dream. And every time the same thing happens, I just stand there and watch as Draco sits atop the tower. It had never made any sense to me why I needed to see that, or what possible purpose it could have, which was why I hadn't bothered any of the others about them yet, I couldn't see the point, we already had enough to be getting on with and why should they care that I was having visions of Malfoy sulking? So, I had been dealing with it, pushing it aside as my inner eye malfunctioning, because really, what possible good could seeing that do me? And I'd been fine, for a little while the dreams had bothered me, since it was so far from what I wanted to be seeing, and for some time they had annoyed me and made me think of how much I hated him and how it infuriated me that I felt kindly towards him in the vision, especially when he didn't deserve it. But recently I just got over it and moved on. However, this time it had been different, things hadn't been the same as they always were. This time I had touched him, and he had reacted.

Wrapping my fingers around the warm mug and taking a sip of the scolding liquid, I frowned. What they Hell did that mean? Why, after weeks of the same mundane, irritating vision was that little snippet stuck on the end? It didn't make sense; I couldn't see at all what its function was, and so I resolved not to think about it, at least not for now, I was going to need a clear head if I was going to get through today. So pushing all that from my mind relatively effortlessly, even the attacking creature which was also new to the vision, I took another sip of tea, this time noticing how hot it was and gasping.

Setting the mug back down I looked at all the maps, lists, drawings, spider diagrams and notes that were scattered about the kitchen table, and thought of our plan. Ever since the second day of our being here, when Kreature had told us all about how he had helped Regulus Black steal the locket Horcrux from the cave and how his master died in the process, and we'd forced Mundungus to tell us who he had sold the locket to after he stole it from the house, we had been planning. You see, the sneak thief Mundungus had lost to locket to the very worst person he possibly could have, Umbridge. Just thinking of her had my blood boiling and my teeth clenching, tightening my left hand I looked down at the faint scars there (not as noticeable as Harry's) which read: I must not tell lies. We all hated her and had been devastated and furious in equal measures to find out that the locket was with her, but still, at least we now knew were it was. So, without further ado, we had organised a rota for keeping watch on the Ministry, so we could keep a look out for her and figure out a good way of getting in undetected, and began planning what to do immediately.

Our finished plan was a good one, I thought, and today was the day we had decided to put it to action, the second of September, the day after the Hogwarts Express had left without us on it and the day after we had learned Snape was to be the new head of the school. Much as we were sorry we weren't going, we weren't going to regret not having to put up with him. However, yesterday had kind of pushed us into action, it had made us realise that we couldn't sit around and plan forever, we had to act. So here we were, mere hours away from infiltrating the most dangerous place in the world for us right now, the Ministry of Magic, which was sure to be crawling with Death Eaters and tighter Vernon Dursley's wallet on Harry's birthday. But that didn't matter, the locket was the only Horcrux we could locate right now, we had a plan of how to get it and we simply had to try, otherwise, what was the point in even being here?

Taking a warming gulp of tea I spotted something else on the table, a piece of parchment with faint lines across it, which indicated it had been folded and had only one word written on it. Feeling an odd sense of fondness, gratitude and suspicion, I pulled it towards me and read that one word. 'Run'. Even now, months after the event the letter had been warning me of, I still felt a jolt of fear as I read and the memory of the madness that had ensued resurfaced. I was still no closer to knowing who had written the letter, on the second day of our being here I had shown it to the others right away, however other than saying that, like me, they vaguely recognised the handwriting, they hadn't a clue. They were, however, more distrustful than I was, Hermione suggested that it might have been a trap or an elaborate ruse on the part of the Death Eaters to gain our trust and then lure is in. I didn't think so though, apart from the fear, I got good vibes from this mysterious letter, and was sure I could trust the writer. Not that that made sense, of course. Pushing the letter away I looked up when a loud crack echoed through the kitchen, followed by the shuffle of little feet.

"Morning, Kreature." I said pleasantly as the Elf shuffled somewhat merrily about the room, having been in high spirits ever since he'd found out we were going to avenge his beloved master and we had given him the locket.

"Good morning, Mistress Ivy." Kreature said, somewhat unsurely but nowhere near as rudely as he used to, since despite being Muggleborns, I thought Hermione and I were beginning to grow on him.

He then asked me if I'd like breakfast and after I said that I would he busied himself making it, while I looked over the plan again for the thousandth time, just to be sure I knew it. A short while later, which was really half past six since we had an early start, Hermione walked into the kitchen, unlike me already dressed and ready to go. Nervous she recited her jobs over and over again as Kreature served us both hot rolls and I refilled my mug.

"Thanks Kreature," I said as I sat back down and the boys shuffled in, still looking quite a bit bedraggled, though, I supposed that I probably did too.

"Morning," I greeted and they both echoed it, somewhat sleepily.

Across the table from me Hermione completely ignored her breakfast, which to me was also looking less and less appealing by the second what with my sudden nerves, as she ticked off a list of all the things we needed. This had to go of without a hitch, things had to be perfect or else we'd all be as good as dead and we will have failed everyone, I thought as my stomach turned and I eyed my food warily, suddenly I could understand Hermione's barely contained panic. A lot was at stake here. Hastily wolfing down food with the others, more for nutrition than for want, though it did taste good, I was just taking another gulp of tea when my eyes went wide, my stomach rolled for an entirely different reason, my head span and I froze. My mug slipped from my stiff fingers and a new vision took me.

Caught in the impenetrable blackness which consumed me before a vision, I stared out into the never ending nothingness before a new scene opened up in front of me. Noise suddenly filled my ears, a stark contrast with the quiet of the kitchen and the silence of darkness, the disjointed roar of conversation came at me from all sides, the click, click, clicking of heels on tiles echoed around me, and the whoosh of people appearing out of the fireplaces reached my ears. From a height I looked around the Ministry of Magic sheepishly as I made my way through the crowds, before turning to my left and noticing that I wasn't walking alone, three other people walked beside me. A short witch with grey hair, a small weedy looking wizard and a tall, taller even than me, man with a thick black beard, curly hair and an impressive build, were my companions. The weedy man gave me a shaky wink, the tall wizard a loose smile and the little witch only looked at me nervously, as together we walked, so far untroubled, towards out destination.

Resurfacing with a gasp I found myself face down on the table, the right side of my face pressed against a puddle of tea.

"Ergh," I said as I quickly sat up, though I regretted it as the visions effects were still wearing off and I swayed where I sat. Ron, who was the closest, quickly reached out for me and stopped me from ending up on the floor, Harry meanwhile was on his feet watching me anxiously and Hermione was torn between pulling the sheets of parchment away from the spilled tea, and reaching across the table to me.

"Ivy?" she asked worriedly and I waved my hand dismissively, not up to speaking yet but really quite alright. No one looked convinced by my attempts at reassurance. Ron's grip on my arm tightened and Harry walked around the table so he was standing by my side.

"What did you see?" Hermione asked after pulling a disbelieving expression and still looking stubbornly worried.

"Nothing bad," I said with a smile at them all, which seemed to surprise them as Ron said,

"I think she hit her head too hard, does anyone know any healing spells?" and with that he put a hand on my head unsurely, which I batted away.

"I'm fine," I insisted somewhat sharply.

"You must be," Ron agreed "that's much more like you're usual self." And at that he and the others laughed lightly while I rolled my eyes.

"Anyone want to know what I saw?" I asked irritably.

"Tell us," Harry said seriously from where he stood next to us.

"It wasn't anything much," I said honestly "but I think it's what we all need to hear right now. I saw the four of us safely - well as safe as we can be – inside the Ministry, in our disguises and everything looked to be going well." I told them and they all looked relieved.

"Thank goodness," Hermione said as she got to her feet and took her bag in her hand "well then, there's no point waiting around any longer, we'd best get going."

Sharing a look with the boys, since it had taken a lot for us to convince Hermione that we should be doing this today, but saying nothing, I quickly dashed upstairs, cleaned the tea from my face, got dressed and ran back downstairs to meet them in the Entrance Hall. With one last run over of things and a few words from Kreature, who assured us he would have dinner waiting for when we got back, we opened the front door. Balanced precariously on the front step we glanced over at the Death Eaters standing across the street who could not see us and apparated. The crushing pressure of apparation, a fitting reflection of the gravity of what we were about to do and the strain we were all under to get this right.

As per the plan we reappeared in the alleyway we had all been using to hide in when it was our turn to spy on the Ministry entrance. A panicking Hermione turned to the fire door we were going to hide the people whose identities we'd steal for the day in, and blasted the padlock off, before pulling it open and anxiously going over what she had to do next. Meanwhile I went to the mouth of the alley, and keeping to the shadows peered out to watch the Ministry workers pass by, many of which I'd observed before, looking out for the next of our soon to be victims to arrive, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. This had to work. Less than a minute later a crack sounded out behind me but I didn't start, I was expecting it, it was the witch Hermione was going to pretend to be apparating into the alley, as she did every day. I turned; wand in hand, just in case there was a problem, but there wasn't, Hermione stunned her and with the boys' help dragged her through the fire door and took some of her hairs. She added the silver hairs to her portion of Polyjuice Potion before quickly drinking, and once she was the exact double of the short witch with grey hair she hurried towards me.

"Hi," I said smiling at Hermione, or Mafalda as Ron had found out she was called, the assistant in the Improper Use of Magic Office. "Our next victim has just apparated across the street," I told her in a hushed voice "he's checking something but he'll cross over the road like he always does at any moment."

"Okay," Hermione said before taking a deep breath and stepping out of the alley just as the weedy man reached our side of the street. Smiling at him Hermione managed to convince him to eat a Puking Pastel and I hurried backwards towards the boys as he ran into our alley to be sick. They threw the Invisibility Cloak over the three of us when I reached them and we watched as Hermione convinced the vomiting man to go home. He seemed reluctant though.

"Urgh," Hermione said as she dodged around a puddle of sick after the puking man left, leaving only his bag behind, and Harry pulled the Invisibility cloak us. She started towards us and I resumed my post by the mouth of the alley. "It would have made much less mess to stun him."

"Yeah," Ron agreed as he held out his own portion of Polyjuice Potion for Hermione to drop the hairs she'd gathered while comforting him, into. "But I still think a whole pile of unconscious bodies would have drawn more attention. Keen on his job though, isn't he?" Ron said, voicing my own thoughts about how the man really hadn't wanted to leave.

"You're name is…" Harry said as he hunted through the man's bag and pulled out a set of navy Magical Maintenance robes and read the name tag on them "Reg Cattermole."

"Right," Ron said as he drank the potion, winced at the transformation, shrinking down into the wispy wizard and getting changed into his new robes.

"Mine is next," I said as I looked around the corner of the alley and spotting the woman I had chosen walking up the street, she was incredibly tall, and wearing high heels to boot, had bright red hair and her face was covered in freckles, the way I saw it, she was about as far away from me as you could get.

"I'll be back in a minute," Hermione said before hurrying out into the street, I watched in the shadows a moment, the others hiding under the Invisibility Cloak, until I heard Hermione again.

"…think she's hurt. Quickly, follow me; I don't know what to do!" Hermione said sounding distressed.

"Calm down, Mafalda," the other woman said in a confused and slightly airy voice "I'm coming."

And then Hermione rounded the corner with the redheaded woman, since I was hidden in the shadows she didn't seem me, and once she was firmly in the alley, looking around for someone that was hurt, I stepped out and pointed my wand at her back.

"Stupefy." I muttered and she fell like a ton of bricks to the floor. Ron and Harry emerged from the under the Cloak and I looked from the unconscious woman to the boys "you were supposed to catch her!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah," Ron said as he and Harry went to pick her up and took her towards the fire door "sorry about that."

As Hermione followed them to pluck some hairs from the redhead I reached down and picked up her handbag, where I found some tokens that we had learned we needed to get into the Ministry now, and an identification card that read: Rosalind Lankan of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. If I hadn't spent the past seven years in the magical world, I might have been surprised by that, but I wasn't, I didn't even laugh, it was just the right about of crazy for the world I lived in.

Hermione returned with my Polyjuice Potion then so I put the card back in Rosalind's purse, next to a photo of two smiling redheaded children, and put the purse back in her bag. Drinking the potion, which tasted like raw carrots, I tried to ignore the pain as best I could as I began to shoot upwards to Rosalind's height, feeling my robes flapping about halfway down my legs rather than around my ankles. When the transformation was complete and I felt dark red curls tumbling about my shoulders and I was approximately six foot tall, I noticed that Hermione had gone off to get Harry's disguise and changed into my new robes while the boys were busy trying to shut the fire door. When Hermione got back, as I was tucking the ring behind my new set of robes, and Harry transformed into a tall, imposing man with a thick beard and dark black curls, we were all good to go and with one shared look of reluctance, we shared out our tokens and headed out of the alley. Sucking in a lung full of air I felt myself shake with nerves but I ignored that, this had to go perfectly, so I focused on walking as I had seen Rosalind do, with a slight bounce in her step and making maximum noise with my unnecessary heels.

Walking together, trying not to look too anxious or suspicious, we approached the Ladies and Gentlemen's toilets we'd seen the Ministry workers disappear into every day we kept watch, and with meaningful looks at each other, we unenthusiastically split off, and Hermione and I left Ron and Harry and disappeared into the Ladies. Both our heels clacking on the cracked, dirty tiling of the Ladies toilets we followed a group of gossiping witches and watched as, still talking rather cruelly about some poor woman named Tabatha whose husband had left her, they selected cubicles and stepped inside. The sound of four separate flushes followed and Hermione and I looked at each other. The witches didn't come back out.

"We'd better get going," I said as I heard voices behind us and Hermione nodded, sharing one last cautious look Hermione and I walked into separate cubicles and closed the doors behind us. Once inside the toilet I stood on the lid and daringly (and sociably-unacceptably) peered over the top into the cubicle next door, where one of the gossiping witches had been, only to find it empty.

"Ivy?" Hermione whispered from next door, quietly so that the approaching voices couldn't hear.

"Yes?" I asked just as quietly, pressing my ear against her side of the cubicle.

"You know what I think we have to do?" she asked, sounding none too happy about what she had decided and looking down at the toilet I had to agree with her.

"Yeah, I think I do." I said before slowly lifting my foot of the floor and pulling a face as I dipped the black shoe into the water in the bowl, only I couldn't feel any water at all. Pleased, I put in my other foot so that I was standing completely in the toilet bowl. I then looked up and spotted the chain, dangling from the cistern.

"See you in a minute." Hermione said and then I heard flushing from her cubicle.

"Right then," I muttered to myself, taking the chain in my hand and taking a breath, closing my eyes I pulled the flusher and then the next second I found myself falling a short distance before stumbling out of a fireplace in the Ministry of Magic.

Unused to being this tall I recovered my balance but nearly hit my head on my way out of the fireplace, thankfully I didn't though, and instead I spotted Hermione and went to stand with her, she didn't look happy and was shaking her hands as though their were germs on them. Though I had to admit, I didn't like the thought that I'd just flushed myself down a public toilet any more than she did. Looking around the grand Atrium, crowded with people, Ministry workers and Death Eaters alike, all blended together so tightly that it was impossible to tell who was a friend and who was a foe, we spotted Ron and Harry looking up at a recent addition to the Atrium. In the place of the old statue, the one that had been destroyed when Dumbledore fought Voldermort in our fifth year, was a brand new, completely horrific one. Sitting on what appeared to be thrones, were a finely dressed witch and wizard, their beautiful faces staring out regally over the bustling Ministry workers. However, as we got closer Hermione and I noticed that they were not, as we had first though, sitting on thrones, instead the witch and wizard were sitting on mounds of humans, with ugly faces, twisted bodies and vacant expressions. And a plaque underneath all of this bore the words: Magic is Might. It turned my stomach, and feeling cold with revulsion and hot with anger at the same time, I heard Hermione say.

"Muggles, in their rightful place." In a dead, sickened voice.

However, refusing to dwell on this very clear display of how things had changed around here since our last visit, I turned my attention to my friends, gave them all reassuring smiles and together we headed across the Atrium, blending in with the crowds and heading for the lifts, just like in my vision. When we joined the queues by the golden lifts something happened that I hadn't seen coming though. An angry voice shouted out Ron's alias' name and shouted at him to stop the raining in his office, or else Cattermole's (the guy whose appearance Ron stole) wife would be in even worse trouble. This reminded me of something else we had found out recently, that the Ministry was now interrogating Muggleborns, accusing them of stealing magic and of really being Muggles, which was something which disgusted me and reassured me that I was making the right choice by doing all of this. So I knew that Cattermole's wife must be a Muggleborn.

Feeling a surge of hatred towards the man who had shouted at Ron, who I now recognised as one of the Death Eaters who had been in the school the night Dumbledore was murdered, I had to work incredibly hard at not saying anything at all to him and to keep up my persona. Meanwhile, as Ron panicked about the fate of this poor woman, which now rested on his magical abilities, and Hermione tried to coach him on the best way to stop it raining in the Death Eater's office, the gilded doors of the lifts opened up and we stepped inside. Ron decided, despite our protests, to go and stop the rain alone, so that we had more time to search Umbridge's office for the Horcrux, and asked Hermione again to explain what she though he should do.

However at that moment the lift doors opened and a short man stepped inside and began to talk to Harry, who he called Albert and we had to take his word that was name since we didn't know. The man didn't seem very nice; he spoke in a low, almost greedy voice, about something Albert had done to someone called Dirk Cresswell and how he was sure to get his job now. His presence didn't concern me for long though, as he had only the time to throw me, Hermione and Ron, who was being whispered instructions, a strange look, before the lift doors were opened and a harassed sounding voice exclaimed,

"Rosalind!"

Harry, Hermione, Ron and I all jumped, and feeling alarmed I watched as a short blonde haired witch hurried towards me and stopped the lift doors from closing again with a flick of her wand.

"Rosalind, where are you going?" she asked in a stressed voice, wide eyed and not sure how to react I quickly said,

"Nowhere," which seemed to be the right answer as the witch smiled thankfully.

"Good," she said reaching into the lift and grabbing my hand "I haven't a clue what I'm going to do about this latest problem, and I know you're not due to start for another hour, but I need your help to think of something." And without waiting for me to consent to help her she began to pull me out of the lift and hurry me down the corridor.

"Err," I said looking back over my shoulder helplessly at the others, who were watching me with wide eyes but I noticed Hermione motion for me to go, we needed to keep up appearances.

"Come, come," the witch insisted as the lift doors shut again and she carried on pulling me helplessly down the corridor, this wasn't good, we didn't ought to be separated. Looking at the woman though I noticed that even in heels she was about half the height of Rosalind and her blonde hair was wispy and messy, as though she had been running her hands through it.

"Honestly," she said as she turned and pulled me onto a new corridor, the plaque above which said: Muggle-Worthy Excuses Office. So, this was where Rosalind worked then, I thought as we trudged down a corridor lined with offices, I spotted Rosalind's name on one of the doors. "Some people have no sense of discretion," she said in a tired, wound up voice "I mean, do they honestly try to make our lives difficult or are they just all plain stupid?" she ranted and apparently a response wasn't needed as we reached the last door in the hallway and she pulled me inside.

According to the nameplate this office belonged to Faffia Doddal, Deputy Head of the Muggle-Worthy Excuses Office.

The witch, who I took to be Faffia, went straight to her desk and began to rummage through the papers there, muttering about not being able to find it, until she produced a piece of parchment and put a pair of red framed glasses on her nose and began to scan the page. Meanwhile I was looking around the small, cramped office, with stacks of paper piled everywhere, towering dangerously and looking as though they might fall over, and thinking of the others, would they be okay without Ron and I, was everything alright, and how was I supposed to get away from here to help them?

"Ah, here it is," Faffia said, pointing to something halfway down the page "No less than one HUNDRED Muggles witnessing a broken down rollercoaster vanishing into thin air in Blackpool, after two barely-of-age-and-brainless wizard boys were having a play fight in the Haunted Mansion, the spell shot out a window and hit the ride. What am I supposed to do with THAT? There were one hundred witnesses and countless others have seen that it's not there."

"Which ride was it?" I asked thinking of the last time I had gone to Blackpool Pleasure Beach with my family, and knowing that how bad this was depended on how big the ride was. Also, I felt a twinge of sadness, missing my family again.

Faffia looked at me as though I was mad "how would I know that?" she asked me irritably "it doesn't matter, it's back now, what I need to know is what do we tell the Muggles, it was all over their news last night and the people up in the Office of Improper Use of Magic have only just let us know about this." she snapped, clearly ready to pull her hair out over this one.

"I don't know," I said racking my brains, because, the sooner I got away from here the sooner I could find the others "what have you thought of so far?"

"I don't know," she whined, pulling her hands down her face "I thought about telling them that it had been dismantled for cleaning or repairs, which would work because it was broken down, but at the same time I don't think Muggle repairs work like that. I could say that it was just a trick of the light and sprout some gobbledygook about how the angle of the sun light caused it to appear to vanish…or I could just say that aliens stole it," she groaned sarcastically "I really don't care any more."

Thoughtful for a moment I stood there and considered it, thinking of possible explanations but coming up just as empty as Faffia had, those kids had certainly caused a problem here, this wasn't exactly a small thing, there was no other explanation for it but magic. Then it hit me.

"Why don't you say it was a magic trick?" I asked and she stared at me blankly "you know? Say that it was one of those Muggle magicians doing an illusion, for entertainment purposes, you could even ask someone from the Ministry to do interviews and stuff pretending to be the person that did it, so that it's believable, maybe even do another trick for everyone." I suggested and Faffia's eyes widened.

"Of course!" she exclaimed slapping her hand on her forehead "why didn't I think of that? I suppose it's too early in the morning for me," she joked before dashing behind her desk and pulling out a piece of parchment to quickly write down what I had said "thank you." she said gratefully as her hand flew across the paper.

"No worries," I said with an easy smile as I headed out the door "I'll just be off then."

"Where are you going?" she asked looking confused and glancing up at me "you might as well stay here for now, you start work soon."

"Oh, I know," I said calmly, despite the fact I was desperate to leave and already half way out the door "I just skipped breakfast is all, and I wanted to go and get something."

"Oh," Faffia said in understanding, smiling at me and returning to her work "see you in a bit then, Rosalind."

"Yeah," I said weakly as I started briskly down the corridor, heading back the way I had come and making my way towards the lifts, maybe if I hurried I could catch the others up.

Calling up the lift, which was mercifully empty, I stepped inside and waited for it to take me to the next level, where we knew Umbridge's office was, when I reached the floor I wanted I stepped out of the lift into another corridor, almost exactly like the one I had just walked down and the others were unfortunately nowhere in sight. Unsure but knowing they had to be down here somewhere, I started to walk down the corridor, checking the plaques on the wooden doors, searching for Umbridge's name though I couldn't find it. Heart pounding with worry but determined to keep a cool head I carried on in my search however. About halfway down the corridor though, I looked up and glanced around, feeling lost, but something else caught my eye at the end of the corridor. A small black and white poster. It was too far away at the moment for me to see it properly, but there appeared to be a moving picture on it, and in massive letters at the top, which dwarfed to picture, were the words; 'Undesirable No.2'. Confused, I squinted and started to walk towards the picture, suddenly dreading what I would see there but also having to look, as the person in the picture anxiously toyed with their midlength dark hair.

However, I didn't get to see what, or rather who, was on the poster, as suddenly invisible hands wrapped around my wrist and started to pull me back down the way I had come. Harry.

"Come on," he urged as he pulled off the invisibility cloak and revealed the black beard and curly hair of the man who was his disguise, which took a moment for me to adjust to since despite knowing where we were I had still been expecting to see my messy haired, bespeckled friend. "We need to find the others and get out of here."

"Why?" I asked as we came to a stop in front of the lifts, suddenly noticing another absence "where's Hermione?"

"Umbridge took her; apparently Mafalda was perfect to help her out in the Muggleborn trials." He said and I felt sick, poor Hermione. "We need to get her out of there and find Ron too, we need to leave."

"Why?" I asked again as the lift opened and we stepped inside the empty cage "what's happened?"

"Nothing yet," he reassured me though he still looked nervous "but the locket wasn't in Umbridge's office, it was stupid to think it would be in the first place, and we need to get out of here before the potion starts to wear off. There are wanted posters for us, you know?" he asked before suddenly looking even more serious and glancing away.

"What is it?" I asked tentatively, not sure that by Harry's expression if I even wanted to know.

"I saw your poster," he said looking sheepish and I thought about the poster I'd seen on the corridor, that must have been one of what he was talking about. "Ivy, I'm sorry, but it says on it … I think that maybe they know," he paused, obviously not sure how to say this "Ivy, I think the rest of the Wizarding World knows what you are."

I froze, letting his words sink in and expecting a horrible feeling of realisation and dread to hit me, but it didn't, instead I felt numb, I didn't feel very good, but I didn't exactly feel terrible.

"It doesn't matter," I said calmly though I felt a touch on the queasy side "I was going to tell other people sooner or later, I just wanted to avoid the pestering while I was at school, it was more of an old habit than anything." I said with a shrug and Harry looked surprised.

"But what about Voldermort?" he asked, looking worried since we both knew that Voldermort had tried to recruit me and my sight over Christmas only he had been persuaded at the time that I wasn't really a true Seer, and now he would know that had been a lie.

"He was always going to find out, if the Ministry fell, they've got it on record. Besides," I said as the lift reached level two and stopped "I cant be in any more danger than I already am, we're already running from him."

The doors of the lift opened then, just as silence descended upon the lift and Harry thought about the truth in what I'd said, and in stepped a soaking and miserable looking Ron, or rather Reg Cattermole, however he didn't recognise us at first.

"M – morning," he said anxiously to Harry and I, and despite everything, how we were separated in the Ministry with our Polyjuice disguises running out, and the Ministry were now putting the fact that I was a Seer on wanted posters, and we still hadn't found the locket, I laughed.

"Ron, it's us," Harry said, smiling himself as Ron's eyes widened.

"Wow," Ron said in surprise and with a slight grin of his own in place "I'd forgotten what you looked like, hey," he said, his smile fading "why isn't Hermione with you?"

"She's fine, Ron." I quickly assured him, hearing the concern in his voice.

"She had to go down to the courtrooms with Umbridge," Harry elaborated "she couldn't refuse and -"

However, at that point the lift's doors shuddered open again and, to all of our great surprise, in stepped Mr Weasley and an old, blonde witch.

"…I quite understand what you're saying, Wakanda, but I'm afraid I can't be party to-" but Mr Weasley cut off as the lift doors shut behind him and he glared at Harry, taking us all of guard and making things even more uncomfortable.

Not sure where to look, I smiled at the elderly witch, who grinned at me as though she knew me, and then looked at the floor. Hoping this wouldn't be our undoing.

"Oh, hello, Reg," Mr Weasley said to Ron, more pleasantly "Isn't your wife in for questioning today? Er – what's happened to you? Why are you so wet?"

Looking thoroughly uncomfortable Ron told his unknowing father about how it was raining in Yaxley's office and that he couldn't stop it, Mr Weasley kindly suggested a charm and Ron almost slipped up by almost calling him dad when he thanked him. Mr Weasley looked at us all oddly then, as though sensing something was up. However, things were made much worse when the lift doors slid open again and the old witch stepped out, closely followed by Ron who was heading off to fix the raining office, Harry tried to follow but found his way blocked by a redheaded man carrying a stack of files. Percy. Harry and I blended into the corners, unnoticed as Mr Weasley's gaze met with the son he no longer spoke to, and for one awful second they just stood there staring, before a proud Percy turned on his heel and walked away from the lift. The doors clanked shut and I stood there, once again completely ignored, as Mr Weasley threatened Harry, or rather Albert Runcorn, for what he had done to the man called Dirk Cresswell. Obviously as uncomfortable as I was, well actually probably more so, that Mr Weasley was using such a harsh tone with him, Harry somehow stayed in character but managed to warn Mr Weasley that he was being followed. I didn't know if Mr Weasley believed him, but hopefully he would be careful.

Mr Weasley said no more and quickly exited the lift with nothing more than one last dark look at Harry, when we reached the Atrium, however Harry and I continued downwards, towards the Courtrooms. As we descended Harry pulled out the Cloak and motioned for me to get under it too, I complied and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Stay quiet, we'll see if we can sneak her out unnoticed." He said as the doors opened and the long corridor that led to the Courtrooms stretched out before us.

"Right," I said as we stepped out and hurriedly made our way towards the rooms, conscious as we did that we might not have very long before the potion began to wear off and so we needed to be quick.

Trying to keep my heel clicking to a minimum, I shuffled along beside Harry, feeling a twisting sensation in the pit of my stomach as I spotted the dark door that led to the Department of Mysteries, and instantly thought of the last time we had been there, and how we hadn't been able to save Sirius. I quickly tried to push those thoughts aside, but worryingly found that I couldn't, abruptly they began to consume me and I could feel my strength begin to drain and a sense of hopelessness fill me, what was the point in all of this? If I couldn't even save one man what chance did I have at saving the whole world? And I felt cold.

"Harry…" I breathed, still having the presence of mind to be alarmed by my sudden moroseness; however, he was one step ahead of me.

"Dementors," he whispered in a grave voice as we reached the foot of the stairs we had been descending and turned right, where a sight awaited us that was so chilling I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins.

Feeling sick I watched as tall, hooded figures floated about the dark corridor, horrifying the devastated looking Muggleborns who were forced to sit and wait in their presence. They looked so hopeless, just sitting there, heads in hands and shaking with fear, it was as though in their minds they had already lost their case, they were at the mercy of these cruel monsters already. Suddenly I stopped and Harry turned to look at me questioningly, I sent him a torn and pleading look, not about to leave these people here and to let them be subjected to this. However, at that moment the doors to the courtroom were thrown open and a screaming man was dragged out, insisting that he was Half-blood and his face dripping with desperate tears. He fell silent and stopped his thrashing when Umbridge threatened him with the Dementors Kiss, and feeling sick with hatred and just plain revulsion I let Harry guide me out of the way as the man was led by.

I watched him go, feeling keenly the injustice of this all, a sentiment which was made a thousand times heavier by the presence of the Dementors, and I knew that if I hadn't been friends with Harry, this could have been me right now. Harry motioned for us to move as Mary Cattermole was called forwards, this was the perfect opportunity for us to sneak inside, but I shook my head firmly.

"I cant leave them," I mouthed at him and Harry looked annoyed, clearly thinking about how the chance to get into the Courtroom had almost passed as the woman reluctantly stepped forwards, but also worried about leaving me here alone, since I might fail and then our cover would be blown.

Grudgingly Harry nodded, I returned the motion and walked with him towards the door and slipped out from under the cloak just as Harry made it inside and the door was firmly shut behind him. The Dementors noticed my presence instantly, in fact they had probably known ever since I had arrived, but now they turned their hooded heads towards me and for a second I froze. Feeling the collective weight of their misery bearing down on me as they sucked my happiness from me, I felt chills run over my body, an aching pain throb in my heart and searing loneliness and betrayal hit me. Not that memory, I thought desperately as they pulled from me my worst moment, the agony, which I had slowly been becoming accustomed to, returning tenfold. Any memory but that one, I thought as I suddenly regretted this decision to stay and wished I'd gone with Harry, I couldn't stand the pain of his betrayal again. It hurt too much.

But I saw them then, looking around the Dementors as they glided eerily towards me, I spotted my fellow Muggleborns, all looking at me with something akin to hope on their faces, the Dementors' effects temporarily lifted. And something inside me clicked then, I suddenly remembered why I was doing this and with a new sense of determination I drew my wand, turned to face the Dementors and latched on to the first happy memory I could think of.

Focusing with all my might on this one memory, I turned my wand on the Dementors, who were still approaching me, and said the words,

"Expecto Patronum," quietly but forcefully so that the people in the courtroom wouldn't hear me.

However as I felt the whoosh of relief that came with the spell, and my Patronus shot forth in a brilliant burst of light from my wand tip, I felt myself numb and my wand almost slip from my fingers. My eyes suddenly widened, my heart froze in my chest and my stomach dropped as I stared in nothing short of horror at the creature fiercely driving away the Dementors. It wasn't my faithful Staffordshire Bull Terrier. My Patronus had changed; it was no longer a dog. Instead of the familiar terrier with its big eyes and loyal expression, a shining, silver, Ferret scurried through the air.

**Author note: Quick question, how's my story flowing so far? It's bothering me and I want to be sure it doesn't read funnily. Thanks for reading :)**


	9. The scarper

**Author Note: I'm having one of those days, or rather weeks, where you're head seems to be full of cotton wool and simply doesn't want to function, so you'll have to bear with me for this chapter, I'm trying to move things on and get to the bits I cant wait to write!**

**Thank you to J S for the anonymous review of my last chapter. Thank you, I'm glad to hear you think the story is flowing well, and no, you're not a bad reviewer, I rather enjoy reading yours.**

**Chapter nine: The scarper**

**Ivy**

I stood there, my wand hanging loosely from my fingertips, my eyes wide and my mouth agape, staring unblinkingly at the shimmering, silver Patronus bounding down the corridor, its stunning glow hitting the oncoming Dementors and, surprisingly, driving them back. As it zigzagged across the corridor, forcing each Dementor into retreat, I felt my brain struggle with this concept and in my numb state I couldn't make sense of anything. There aren't really any good times in life to have your brain completely shut down. But a best case scenario for this to happen might be when hearing something you don't want to hear, or during the times when you're alone and you can just switch off with no real danger to yourself. In the Ministry of Magic when you're one of the four most wanted people in the country, hidden by only a Polyjuice Potion which might run out at any second and being pretty much alone in a corridor full of soul sucking Dementors, all of which are converging on you, was not such a good time to freeze. But I couldn't help it; I just stood there, staring blankly at the stunning silver ferret as it drove back the Dementors, my eyes wide, my mouth open and the space between my ears utterly vacant. Only one word could force its way through my foggy brain.

What?

I couldn't understand it, it didn't make sense, my Patronus was a dog, it had always been a dog and I had thought it would always be a dog, why had it changed? Looking back I suppose that it was obvious, but at the time I was either too stunned or too deep in denial to figure it out, either way I could only watch as my surprisingly ferocious ferret scurried through the air and forced all of the Dementors into retreat further back down the corridor, but not to vanish completely. My Staffordshire Bull Terrier had never been able to do that, I thought absentmindedly, it had never been able to drive off more than one Dementor unaided, but it seemed to be no trouble for the silver ferret. It charged at the Dementors with all the fierceness of a Rottweiler, despite its size, the strength of the memory that had caused it was enough to keep the hooded creatures at bay. For a short while anyway, regardless of whatever power this new Patronus seemed to have the sheer number and strength of the Dementors began to overwhelm it and they made their menacing way back towards me, gliding with intent and purpose as my ferret began to flicker and backed away, losing its strength. The small animal bared its teeth at the creatures one last time before it vanished into swirling mists and disappeared, taking all the warmth from the room with it.

I was shocked from my stunned state when a sudden coldness landed heavy on my shoulders, causing me to shiver. Thoughts began to return to my head then, miserable thoughts, thoughts I normally avoided at all costs. His face drifted before my mind, his expression one of cruel amusement and his eyes as cold as the ice that seemed t fill my veins pain in my heart and abdomen returned to me and I began to feel hopeless once more, I could see the Dementors swooping towards me, their corpse like hands reaching for me, but did nothing. All my happiness was being sucked from me, leaving only my post painful memories for me to contemplate and that was punishment beyond measure to me. Half blinded by the tears forming in my eyes and the sense of pointlessness they instilled, I did try to fight, I told myself that none of this mattered any more, that what was important was my friends and this mission, but it didn't work, the misery they pumped into me was too overpowering. I couldn't bring myself to do anything; I didn't move or even conceder raising my wand I was too busy drowning in my own despair, just as painful as it had been months ago. This is HIS fault; I thought as they glided ever nearer from where my Patronus had driven them, if I die here it's all his fault.

"Look out!" I heard a horrified woman shout, her hands on her face and her expression terrified, she couldn't understand why I wasn't doing anything. I looked at her (noticing absentmindedly that she was blonde as I did) and the crowd of terrified Muggleborns, having forgotten that they were there until just now, I realised, in some cloudy part of my brain, that she was afraid for me. She didn't know what he had done to me though, I thought, she couldn't feel the pain I did, if she did she'd know why I didn't move, I thought, aloofly, as though she were just a foolish woman who couldn't understand.

However, despite her warnings I still stood there, hopeless and agonised into immobility, unwilling to even try and escape, that was until a rotting hand closed around my throat and lifted me abruptly from the floor. I soon snapped from my trance then. Gasping for air as skeletal hands tightened around my neck and arms, I watched in horror as they all surrounded me, each Dementor holding onto me and pinning me to the wall. What on Earth had I been doing? I wondered in horrified disgust, had I wanted them to get me or something? Appalled by what I had been doing as I sank into depression, I didn't have to try very hard to focus on the here and now. As something a thousand times more pressing that my sudden misery under the Dementor's influence was happening. I was in great danger.

It was a terrifying sight, looking around as they surrounded me, choking the life out of me, even though I knew that death would come from under their hoods and not by their hands. Their rotting, dead smell filled my nostrils, the sound of their ominous breathing echoed in my ears over the nose of my blood pounding there, and worst of all, I could see hints of their grey, expressionless faces under their tattered hoods. Opening and closing my mouth, like a goldfish fighting for air, I began to struggle, trying desperately to pull myself free of their cold grasp. I kicked and thrashed and pulled but I couldn't free myself, they were holding me too tightly, anxious to end who was probably the first person to fight back against them since they'd been brought here. Panic rising quickly inside me, eclipsing all earlier emotions, I whimpered as I tried to yank my arm free and their sharp nails scratched at my skin. I wanted to swallow all my pride and plead with them to let me go, but I knew it would do me no good. A horrible thought began to dawn on me as they pinned me firmly against the wall, having to use force now my despair had been pushed aside once more. I realised that this could be it, this could be the end.

I wanted to cry, to scream and to fight, but in my current state I could do nothing, the Dementors' grip and my own fear preventing me. I could hear the other Muggleborns shouting, screaming, weeping, but they could do nothing to help me, their own fear was paralyzing them as well, and that, if it was possible, made me feel even worse. To hear their sorrow was almost as painful as feeling my own and certainly not the sound I wanted to die to. When a Dementor to my right began to lower its hood, I felt my heart stop in my chest, my eyes widen and my stomach plummet.

"No," I cried as it began to reveal its horrific, dead face and my struggling intensified.

"No," I repeated as I trashed about in their grip, where only seconds before I hadn't even been able to move an inch. It wouldn't end like this, it couldn't, I didn't want to die, I refused to! I wasn't ready to go yet. Fighting with all my might I twisted my wrist and pointed my wand, which I still mercifully held, at the Dementor in front of me, shaking with the effort it took to keep it trained there, as cold hands battled to retrain me. I wasn't going down without a fight.

"Expecto Patronum!" I exclaimed, quivering and latching on once more to that happy memory, the same one as before.

I closed my eyes and, cringing away as the Dementors lent in close, I felt something explode from my wand tip. The next second I was falling. Hitting the hard marble floor with a painful thump, I groaned and opened my eyes, watching in relief and amazement as my enraged silver ferret shot across the room, driving back the Dementors once more, tiny teeth and claws bared. Quickly I got to my feet, gripping my wand tightly I balanced on shaky legs, still quivering from what had almost happened. Feeling my cheeks pinken in humiliation as I thought about how I had just stood there and let the Dementors get a hold of me, I did my best to push that aside for now, I could chastise myself later, for now I had more important things to do. Looking over at the wizards and witches gathered together by the wall of the corridor, standing together for comfort and protection as my Patronus fought off the Dementors; I hurried forwards, remembering my determination to help them. Now that they were free of the Dementors I couldn't just leave them here, I had to help them escape, lest they all be unfairly tried in this reverse witch hunt.

When I reached them they all reached out for me, warm hands banishing the chills left by the Dementors and comforting me. They thanked me and asked me if I was alright, I insisted that I was fine but that still didn't seem to ease their worry, though I could understand that since they had spent who knew how long in the company of Dementors. Gaze flicking over to my ferret, which seemed to be struggling again against the gang of Dementors, I anxiously turned back to the Muggleborns about to tell them that I was going to help them, that we just needed to wait for my friends and then we would get them out of here. But at that moment I heard the sound of commotion from the other side of the Courtroom door, shouted spells, bangs and screaming. Alarmed I turned, wand clasped tightly in hand, to face the door, just in case what should emerge wasn't a friendly face. The wandless witches and wizards gathered behind me, listening to the noise behind the door and watching as the Dementors made their ominous and persistent way back towards us, wasted hands reaching and ragged robes blowing in an nonexistent breeze, and my strong little ferret was growing fainter with every passing second. I meanwhile wanted nothing more than to burst into the Courtroom and help my friends, as judging by the noise something had gone seriously wrong in there, but I couldn't, it wouldn't be safe to leave these people here alone, I had made the Dementors angry and who knew what they would do to them if I ran off. So I stayed, braced and ready to spring into action.

The door to the Courtrooms flew open a second later and out glided a tall silver stag and a sweet, drifting otter. Harry and Hermione's Patronuses, followed closely by the two themselves, both looking slightly harassed and anxious, which instantly had me feeling the same. Lastly emerged a dazed looking Mary Cattermole, who was holding on to herself tightly, clearly scared witless. I ran to meet my friends, who had spotted me, and had been jogging this way, just as my silver ferret unwillingly vanished, fighting up until the last for me. So I skidded to a stop, the terrified Muggleborns right behind me, and pointed my wand at the Dementors once more.

"Expecto Patronum!" I cried for a third time, clutching tightly to the same unlikely memory I had used twice before, as it seemed to be working for me. I just wouldn't allow myself to think too deeply about it.

There was a gasp from Hermione as my silver ferret shot from my wand and scurried once more, to join the stag and otter and this time with their help it succeeded in driving the Dementors into the shadows. Both my friends were looking at me when I turned back to face them, surprise and confusion evident on their faces, they both knew full well what form my Patronus was supposed to take and both knew as well as I did the only circumstances that could cause a Patronus to change. But I wasn't thinking about that either. However, mercifully they didn't say anything, both seemed to understand that this was something to discus at another time, and Hermione had noticed the bloody gashes in the sleeves of my robes.

"Ivy!" she exclaimed as she pointed to them "what happened to you?"

"Dementors," I answered as I looked away and shrugged, though my voice indicated that I felt anything but nonchalant, words couldn't accurately describe how it felt to be restrained by those creatures and so close to losing your soul. "I'm fine, but we need to get these people out of here." I said firmly, looking intently at Harry, who nodded before turning to the others.

"It's been decided that you should all go home and go into hiding with your families," Harry announced to the crowd, who were still hunched over each other and staring at the Patronuses in fascination "Go abroad if you can. Just get well away from the Ministry. That's the – er – new official position. Now, if you'll just follow the Patronuses, you'll be able to leave through the Atrium."

The frightened witches and wizards didn't need to be asked twice, in a tight knit group they hurried down the corridors, following Harry's great stag and Hermione's graceful otter. My ferret, meanwhile, doubled back over the heads of the crowd until it was curling its long, silken tail around its self and waiting for me a little way ahead. Staring at it with a fascination of my own as I reached it and it scampered along beside me, drifting by the side of my head, I got a proper look at my new Patronus for the first time since it had arrived. It was bigger than your average ferret, I observed, with a long, twitchy nose and a furry, arched silver back. It was beautiful, so elegant as it scampered through the open air, its head held high and its silken tail swishing behind it, and despite my shock I felt fondly towards it already, as though I was already familiar with it. So, weirdly, I smiled as we all raced up the steps and away from the Courtrooms, though needless to say I was the only one doing so. Harry and Hermione were watching me with troubled expressions in place, as though they knew some grave secret I didn't, or maybe because I was doing something they didn't approve of, which didn't make sense to me. When I raised my eyebrows at my friends questioningly they both looked away, seemingly uncomfortable, and refusing to answer my unspoken question.

As we neared the lifts, Ron appeared, running down the corridor towards us, apparently having just gotten down here. He was still soaked through, only now rather than looking miserable he looked determined, not to mention alarmed, something wasn't right and Harry, Hermione and I picked up our own pace, hurrying towards Ron, anxious. Mrs Cattermole got their first though, thinking Ron was her husband she threw herself at him and hugged him tightly, telling him that Harry, or rather Runcorn, had saved her and told them all to run away. Ron looked extremely uncomfortable as she clung to him lovingly, and ordinarily that would have been amusing, though none of us felt like laughing now, he ignored his discomfort though and turned to us.

"Harry, they know there are intruders inside the Ministry," he said worriedly meeting Harry's gaze gravely.

"How?" I asked, feeling fear grip me all the tighter, how were we going to escape if they knew someone was here?

"Something about a hole in Umbridge's office door, I reckon we've got five minutes, if that-" Ron answered but was cut off when a loud pop echoed in the corridor as Hermione's Patronus vanished in her sudden panic. Which I could understand, since I was surprised mine was even still here with how frightened Ron's words made me, this wasn't good for us, but it was still there, floating closely by my side. I was determined though, adamant that we get ourselves and all these people out of here safely, so maybe that was why it remained.

"Harry, if we're trapped here - !" she said fearfully, voicing all of our thoughts and trembling a little.

"We won't be if we move fast," Harry insisted before looking back at the terrified group behind us, who looked really sceptical now "I promise." He said firmly, wanting them to trust and believe in him, since that would increase our chances of getting out of here in time.

"Let's get going then," I suggested gesturing towards the lifts, not too far away from us, the others nodded and we set off at a jog, the Muggleborns following behind us at Harry's encouragement.

We reached the lifts and all twenty or so of us squeezed inside two, the Patronuses meanwhile, hovered outside, almost like guards as the doors shut behind us. I felt a prang when my ferret disappeared, having been drawing strength from it, but I wasn't about to dwell on something so trivial right now, even if I felt suddenly more alone without it. I realised that there were more pressing things to think about than my new ferret. Like how were we going to get all of these people out of here safely, when they were all known Muggleborns and surely the Ministry wouldn't just let them leave. Asking had revealed that only about half of the wizards here still had their wands, troubled Harry had asked those who didn't have a wand to attach themselves to someone who did, and advised them all to stay close to us. Things still didn't look too good for us though, we still had to cross the Atrium, which was going to be tricky at best. Harry looked to be thinking along the same lines, as his face was firmly set with a frown by the time we reached the Atrium and the lift doors shuddered open.

The sight that awaited us there was not a good one, it was the exact opposite of what we needed right then and as we all began to make our way out of the lift we stared, in restrained horror, as we watched several Ministry workers running about between the fireplaces, sealing them off. Sealing us in. As we all stood together in an indiscreet crowd by the lifts, I clutched my wand, ready to act, and irately brushed a strand of hair out of my face, noticing as I did that it was now an auburn colour, rather than red. The Polyjuice Potion was starting to wear off. Looking up I went to warn the others, as Hermione's hair was regaining some of its colour and I could she her slowly starting to grow. We needed to hurry, we needed to get out of here now, otherwise we'd be stuck in here when we turned back into our normal selves, leaving no doubt in the Ministry's mind as to who we were. However, as I went to reach out for my friends, Harry, who so far had not started to change back, shouted in Runcorn's booming voice.

"STOP!" he said powerfully and even above the noise of the Atrium, the wizards sealing the fireplace stopped in their tracks and looked up fearfully. I looked at Harry, wondering what the man who made up his disguise had done to gain such infamy here.

Harry glanced at Hermione and I meaningfully before starting across the Atrium, Hermione followed instantly and I turned back to the terrified Muggleborns, beckoning them to follow.

"Hurry," I urged as we crossed the room, a great many eyes upon our highly noticeable procession as we moved "we need to get you out of here."

The woman who had shouted for me to look out down in the Courtroom, a motherly looking woman with mousey blonde hair, nodded discreetly, motioning for the others to be quick as we neared the Ministry workers, all of which looked alarmed to have gotten on the wrong side of Runcorn. One balding man asked what was wrong and Harry said that we needed to get this group out before the exits were closed, the wizards were reluctant to let us however, and the one who had spoken before said that they had been given instructions to let no one out. Harry cut across him though, impressively shouting at the man and making him quiver at Runcorn's voice, demanding to be let out. The man, while obviously terrified, still didn't want to let us out despite how imposing Harry was, though he looked more inclined to so I decided to add some credibility to this and stepped forwards, head held high.

"Muggle-Worthy Excuses Office," I said flashing Rosalind's ID tag and using my very best telephone-voice "we're running on a tight schedule here, we need to have this lot in Blackpool in the next minute, or else who knows what will happen."

"Blackpool?" the man questioned, his dubious gaze landing on me and looking considerably less intimidated than when he had been looking at Harry, not that I let that deter me, since I didn't need to be tall and imposing to be threatening. Just ask anyone who ever got on my bad side at school.

"Yes," I said, trying to put an important and demeaning edge to my voice as I'd heard others here do "we are heading out to defuse the incident of the vanishing rollercoaster, tell me you have heard of it? Surely everyone has!" I said and the man looked slightly taken aback, and a touch on the embarrassed side since clearly he didn't know what I was talking about, and why should he? It wasn't that big a deal, but he didn't need to know that. "These fine witches and wizards are to stand in as fake witnesses for the Ministry's official excuse."

"Which is?" the man asked, still doubtful despite the red tinge to his cheeks.

Trying not to look around anxiously for approaching Death Eaters, like I wanted to, I stared at him unflinchingly and said "that the incident was caused by a Muggle illusionist; these wizards are to stand in on the Muggle news as witnesses to the 'trick'. A highly important job, so, if you'll excuse us." I said firmly, leaving no room for further discussion as I barged past him and started to lead the Muggleborns away.

The man looked from me, with wide eyes and a slightly surprised expression, to Harry and said, with the tone of a man quickly backtracking realising he was in the wrong,

"Sorry, I didn't mean nothing, but I thought... I thought they were in for questioning and..."

"Their blood is pure," Harry said firmly as I continued to usher my fellow Muggleborns towards the fireplaces and Ron and Hermione stood guard, gradually looking more and more like their real selves with each passing moment, I anxiously noticed. "Purer than yours, I dare say," Harry continued loudly, addressing the whole of our audience and clearly trying to play the part of Runcorn and use it to our advantage, though I didn't know what good it would do us if we didn't get out of here soon. "Off you go," he said to the Muggleborns as they disappeared through the fireplaces, and feeling we needed to hurry, I caught his gaze.

"Albert," I said tightly as I shot Harry a meaningful glance that I hoped wasn't too obvious to the watching Ministry workers "hadn't we best be off?"

"Right," Harry agreed, motioning for Hermione, Ron, Mrs Cattermole (who was the only Muggleborn left by this point) and I to head towards the fireplace, and we were almost there, walking around reluctant and suspicious looking Ministry workers, when suddenly a loud cry echoed through the Atrium and we all turned.

"Mary!" The real Reg Cattermole, looking pale and sickly, shouted and I felt my eyes widen as I turned to look at the others, who looked about as shocked as I did, this wasn't good, we needed to get out.

"R - Reg?" Mrs Cattermole asked, her expression the epitome of confusion as she looked between the two men who both appeared to be her husband, obviously not sure what to make of this.

Ron swore loudly, knowing how bad this was for us, and as I looked around, trying to get my bearings and see what our chances were and Mr Cattermole continued to call out for his wife, I heard Hermione whisper,

"Harry!" In an urging voice, trying to get us into action. My heart beating frantically in my chest as the Ministry workers tried to figure out what was going on, and realised there was something not right about us, and Mr Cattermole converged on us, I started to take steps backwards, forcing my friends to do the same, bringing us closer to the fireplaces.

"Seal the exit!" Yaxley yelled as he exploded out of one of the lifts and started to sprint across the Atrium towards us.

"Not good," Ron commented as he turned urgently towards Mrs Cattermole and Harry quickly punched the man, who we had been dealing with mere minutes before, when he raised his wand to try and stop us. Harry then shouted something which caused all the floored man's colleagues to get in an uproar, however I didn't hear what as I was quickly turning to the real Reg Cattermole, who looked distressed as Ron used the madness as a cover and led Mary through the fireplace.

"Come on!" I said to Mr Cattermole insistently as I took hold of his arm and began to pull him towards the fireplaces, not wanting him to be left behind in all of this and bless him, the poor man was confused. "Quickly, you need to get out!"

The roar of enraged and determined men rang loud in my ears as we ran towards the fireplace, my dark hair flying hinderingly in front of my eyes as we did so, and my temporarily long legs shrinking awkwardly with each step I took, making running difficult. Spells whooshed past my head as they tried to apprehend us, but I knew they didn't stand a chance, we had already reached the fireplace and there was no stopping us now, but still I couldnt feel any relief yet, there was still time for something to go wrong. So, looking worriedly over my shoulder just as Mr Cattermole and I skidded into the fireplace, I spotted Harry and Hermione running right behind us, just before the emerald flames leapt up around us and we spun for a short while before we were thrown out of the toilet. Coming to a clattering halt on the dirty tiled floors of the public toilet, I knocked my hair out of my eyes, and with my heart in my throat I hurried forwards, letting go of Mr Cattermole, and spotting Ron trying to shake off his wife by the sinks.

"Ron," I called to hurry him as I ran, we really had no time, we had to get out of here.

"Reg, I don't understand-" Mrs Cattermole was saying as she clung to Ron's arm and he tried to pull it free, a look of restrained disgust and desperation on his face.

"Let go, I'm not your husband, you've got to go home!" he insisted and I quickly turned back to Mr Cattermole, who was now staring at the scene in utter disbelief, even though Ron was looking less and less like the older wizard every second. He couldn't understand it.

"This, is your husband," I said leading Mr Cattermole to his wife, who loosened her hold on Ron, to look intently at her husband, and allowed me to take his hand and pull him away from her.

Hermione and Harry shot out of the toilet then, Hermione almost all the way back to looking like herself, however, as they emerged from the cubical and started towards where Ron and I stood there was a terrifying noise that came from the toilet behind them. I felt my heart beat quicken with fear as Ron and I started towards our friends, reaching out for them and desperate to get out of here now.

"LET'S GO!" Harry shouted as I caught onto his hand and Ron quickly took Hermione's in his, his big eyes going enormous with fear as he looked over her shoulder and spotted Yaxley emerging from the cubicle, I was just as terrified, but it didn't matter, I couldnt register anything more, Hermione was already apparating.

Darkness encompassed us and heavy forces seemed to press on us from all sides, tight and suffocating, made a thousand times worse by the frantic beating of my heart and my fear that we wouldn't escape, but just when it reached the point where I thought I could bear it no longer, that it would never end, it did. The world opened up again, the great hand that seemed to be squeezing us all tightly during apparation, let go, and I found myself teetering dangerously on the edge of the top step at Grimmauld place, about to fall, when suddenly I was sucked into darkness again and the crushing pressure returned. My friends and I seemed to shoot down a tight pipe, the only fixed things my grip on Harry and Ron, and then suddenly the pressure lifted.

Losing my balance, I let go of their hands, unable to hold on any longer as Harry and Ron tumbled as well. Feeling a chill wind blow back my now completely brown hair, I gasped as the floor suddenly rose up to meet me, confusingly orange and damp, but then I felt no more, just an otherworldly breeze drifting across the forefront of my brain and then darkness. The numbness of the immense blackness stretching out before me in every direction, was strange after the flood of frantic emotions I had been feeling just before, it was almost like I had been pulled up short and that keen sting of abruptness was the only thing I could feel. Until colour and sight returned to me and my Inner eye shot open. I was greeted by the blinding contrast of brilliant white snow and the blackness of night, I felt a coldness settle around me, but oddly enough I felt happy, ecstatic even as I focused in on something, seeing only that from my first person perspective. It was a locket, dangling from someone hands on a heavy gold chain, the hexagonal locket was open and the windows inside it smashed. I had only the time to register that and a deep, almost hysterical, happiness, before this world too was ripped away from me and I awoke, gasping, in the real world.

Laying there, suffering from apparation whiplash, struggling for breath and staring down at the leaf strewn ground, I felt a twig digging into my hand but ignored it, too busy willing my dizziness to pass so that I could sit up and tell the others what I saw. As I lay there, my cheek pressed against the muddy earth, I realised that I didn't even know the outcome of our mission yet, I didn't know if we'd been successful in obtaining the locket or if the whole thing had been a gigantic failure. But my vision made me hopeful, uncertain and confusing though my visions often were even I couldn't find something to dispute with that one, it seemed clear as day to me. I had felt so happy in it, seeing what was surely the locket Horcrux destroyed. Blinking a few times and tiring of waiting, I quickly rose up, pressing my hands against the damp earth as I did so, and regretted it almost at once as the world continued to spin around me, though I impatiently ignored that and span around so that I could look for the others. I spotted them all, laying unmoving against the forest floor and I felt fear begin to take hold of me again, and tried to get to my feet as I feared the worst, but just then Harry moved and I relaxed a little.

This didn't make sense, I thought as Harry groaned and began to stir, and Hermione slowly began to pull herself up, why were we in a forest? Looking up and around me at the leafy canopy I couldn't understand how we had gotten here, Hermione had been taking us back to Grimmauld Place, in fact we had reached Grimmauld Place, I could remember nearly falling down the steps. So, why had we ended up here? However, I didn't get the chance to think much more about that, or admire the scenery any longer, as Hermione let out a pained cry and my gaze snapped to her, crawling across the floor to Ron, an agonised expression on her face. My heart plummeted and I quickly jumped to my feet, and on shaky legs I stumbled across to where they both were, Harry sitting up on my left, looking like himself again and his expression panicked.

Hermione was shaking and whimpering when I reached her, her expression one beyond pain, and as I looked down at Ron I understood why. Ron was deathly pale and shuddering where he lay, but other than that he showed no signs of life and would not open his eyes, his entire left hand side was covered in blood, staining the leaf strewn ground around him, and Hermione's red hands were fluttering uselessly between Ron's head and his wound. I sank to the ground, Hermione's frightened whispers and Harry's heavy footsteps as he hurried towards us the only sound I could hear over the pounding of my own heart, oh God, Ron. Terrified beyond belief I began to look for something to do, however I could think of nothing, Hermione was already putting pressure on the wound, so I sat there, tears filling my eyes and feeling useless in my friends pain.

"What's happened to him?" Harry asked in a distressed tone and I looked up at Hermione as she answered.

"Splinched," Hermione said as she fumbled with Ron's shirt, her resourcefulness slowly vanishing in the wake of her anguish. Blinking back tears and determined to help I reached forwards and gently touched Hermione's shaking hands before ripping open Ron's shirt myself, wincing when I saw the deep, bloody gash on his shoulder. Hermione looked at me and mouthed a thank you, returning to work at once.

"Harry, quickly, in my bag there's a small bottle ladled 'Essence of Dittany'-" she instructed and an anxious Harry needed to hear no more, he quickly ran from where he had been previously stood by my side and searched out the bag.

"Bag – right-" I heard him say as he franticly searched for it.

I listened to the rustle of the leaves as Harry dashed about and snatched up Hermione's bag, watching quietly as Hermione looked down at Ron through a haze of her own tears, her expression one of out right agony as she smoothed down his hair and whispered that it would be alright. Unwittingly I watched in my minds eye as a memory flashed there, reminded of it keenly by the scene before me. I could feel cold water soaking my robes as I knelt down beside another bleeding boy in my head, his pale face contorted with anguish that I felt as keenly as if it were my own, blooded hands fluttering between the gashes on his chest and face, my breathing quick but laboured with terror. I felt helpless panic filling me now as it had then, only now I could only sit here, half paralysed by fear for my friend as well as by the sting of the memory I had just called forwards. I was hardly aware of Hermione shouting for Harry to hurry, or of Harry dashing back with the bottle of Dittany in hand, but all that happened around me without me so much as batting an eyelash.

"He's fainted," Hermione said snapping me back to my senses and reminding me that this wasn't about me, or my own suffering, that I was being selfish by just sitting here and thinking about the past. "Unstopper it for me Harry, my hands are shaking."

"Hermione," I said in a quiet voice as Harry pulled off the stopper and Hermione looked up at me, her tear tracks glistening in the sun streaming through the leaves overhead. "What can I do?"

"There's a flask of tea in my bag," she told me and I immediately shot to my feet "he'll need something for when he comes back around, to bring up his strength."

"Right," I said as I quickly turned, snatched up her beaded bag and summoned the flask from its depths.

Meanwhile Hermione gently lent over Ron and poured three drops of the potion into Ron's wound, Harry and I watched in amazement as green smoke suddenly billowed from the cut and it began to instantly heal its self. The bleeding quickly stopped and new skin started to form.

"Wow," Harry said as I unscrewed the flask and returned to stand by his side, admiring Hermione's work, the wound had now almost vanished, so that all that remained was a scar.

"It's all I feel safe using," she told us as the put the stopper back on the bottle and looked down at Ron "there are spells that would put him completely right, but I daren't try any in case I do them wrong and do him more damage… he's lost so much blood already…" Hermione said as though explaining herself.

"We understand Hermione." I said gently, watching all my friends anxiously, worried for them all.

Sounding thoroughly confused, Harry then asked how we had gotten here, since we had been heading back for Grimmauld place, and looking deeply ashamed for no reason that Harry or I could see even after she told us what had happened, she explained. Apparently Yaxley had grabbed hold of her as she apparated, meaning we brought him with us to Grimmauld Place, where Hermione had shaken him off and brought us here. However, it was impossible for us to go back there now, as we had brought him inside the Fidelius Charm, meaning he could get inside the house now. Taking the blame Hermione hung her head and apologised, even though as far as I could see she'd done all that could have been expected of her, and probably acted faster and more wisely than any of us could have done. Harry agreed and told her it wasn't her fault, saying that if it was anyone it was him, before producing a whirling sphere I quickly realised as Moody's electric blue eye. Harry told us that he had taken it from Umbridge's office door, and that it was why they had known we were there, however he said that he couldn't just leave it there and we all understood.

Despite how no one was the blame the mood was still a little bit down then, all of us regretting that we couldn't go back to Grimmauld Place as it had almost felt homely of late, I even felt sorry for Kreature, who, instead of greeting us this evening, would instead meet a gang of fierce Death Eaters. It was disheartening, but we'd get by. However, before any of us could think much more about this Ron groaned from where he lay on the floor and we all let out a collective sigh of relief as he shifted and opened his eyes. Ron said he didn't feel good, but he was once again in one piece and that was what was important. Ron then asked where we were, as the three of us gathered closely around him, and Hermione told us we were in the forest where the Quidditch World Cup had been held, because it was the first place she could think of.

After that we decided to stay here rather than move on again, as Ron was still weak, so, with Hermione setting protective enchantments around what was to become our campsite, and Harry pulled the tent, which was the same one they'd used at the World Cup, from Hermione's bag, I sat with Ron and handed him a cup of tea, which he took with only minimal complaint. With the tent erect, the enchantments in place, and a minor argument about calling Voldermort You-Know-Who, Harry, Hermione and I did our best to carry Ron carefully into the tent, putting him gently on a bed and hoping for the best. All of us sat in the comforting familiarity of the magical tent, a cup of tea in each of our hands, we discussed, in grave worried voices, the fate of the Cattermole's, each of us hoping they made it to safety. Harry then asked if Hermione had the Horcrux and Ron and I (despite my vision) turned to them in shock.

"You got it?" Ron shouted in disbelief from where he lay on his bed "No one tells us anything! Blimey, you could have mentioned it!"

"Well, we were still running for our lives from the Death Eaters, weren't we?" Hermione said as she rooted around in her coat for the locket.

"I thought you'd get it," I said watching as she pulled the great thing out and dangled it from its heavy chain "but still, you might have said!"

"What made you think we'd got it?" Harry asked me in a confused tone and I smiled, in spite of everything, and shrugged.

"Faith," I said easily, trying to lighten the mood before adding "oh and a vision I had just as we landed here, I saw the Horcrux destroyed, so I figured we'd get it at some point."

"You saw it destroyed?" Hermione exclaimed, turning to look at me intently "did you see how?"

"No," I said shaking my head as the others looked at me expectantly, thinking I might hold the answers to our next big question, which was how on Earth were we meant to destroy it, when Kreature said it couldn't be destroyed. "I only saw it broken, I didn't see how."

"Well," Ron said grumpily "that's no good. What are we supposed to do with that?"

Annoyed, I scowled at him from across the room, regardless of how poorly he was he had no right to talk to me like that, I was doing all I could and it wasn't my fault my visions weren't very useful. Harry and Hermione caught sight of my expression, and Hermione shot me a warning look, clearly not wanting me to argue with Ron in his state and Harry jumped in to calm the situation.

"But at least we know its possible now," he said with a meaningful look at Ron and an apologetic one at me, I huffed before unfurrowing my brows and muttering my agreement.

We all sat there then, inspecting the Horcrux in turn and trying to figure out how to destroy it, before Harry slipped it around his neck, saying we ought to keep it safe until we thought of what to do with it. Harry then decided we should take turns keeping watch and Hermione and I thought it best to try and find something to eat, since everyone would be hungry soon, and she hadn't packed any food since she'd thought we'd be going back to Grimmauld Place. So, with my Guides book of forest plants in hand Hermione and I set out to find something edible from the surrounding trees, but all we turned up were a few mushrooms, which when we sat down to eat them, turned out to be horribly rubbery and difficult to eat. All of us did cleaned our plates though, apart from Ron who only looked at them in disgust, knowing we would need our energy for what was to come.

After that darkness began to swiftly fall, and exhausted from today's events we assigned ourselves our watch rota, excluding Ron, who was too ill to sit up outside the tent and guard. I was told that I'd have the third watch, from three in the morning until six, when dawn would come and everyone would get up. Harry was taking the first watch and so said goodnight to us all and took up his post outside the tent flaps, Sneakoscope and wand in hand. Feeling my eyelids droop and my limbs ache with exhaustion, I said night to Ron and Hermione and climbed into the bottom bunk as Hermione took the top.

For a while I just lay there, despite how tired I was, listening to the wind rustling the leaves in the trees and the sounds of woodland animals moving around outside, half expecting each noise to be a Death Eater approaching. Although I was tired and wanted to rest I was in no real hurry to get to sleep, knowing that all that awaited me there was my vision dream, and after today that was the last thing I needed. I'd been reminded of him today more times that I needed, first with the nightmare, second with the Dementors and then again when I saw Ron bleeding on the floor. It wasn't good for me, those unguarded memories may seem harmless but all they ever did was knock down the defences I had been building up ever since the start of the summer. They shook my resolve, which I needed to hold onto for the next time I saw him. I had to be strong then, firm, angry and ready to take my vengeance, to show him that no one got away with what he did. But to keep thinking of him like I did only brought back the pain I'd felt when he left, which made me feel so helpless that if I saw him then I'd just break down out of sheer misery. And I hated that.

So, pushing aside all thoughts of blond Death Eaters, and even refusing to contemplate the change in my Patronus, which I was starting to understand now and no longer liked at all, I rolled onto my side and screwed my eyes tightly shut. It was my turn to take watch in a few hours; I needed to get to sleep. Focusing on the Horcrux, the bulky necklace which was the very reason everything that had happened today, had come to pass, I racked my brains for a way to destroy it, dissecting every inch of my vision for any sign of how it had been smashed, until sheer exhaustion overcame me and I fell into a fitful slumber, the platinum ring still resting against my chest as I slept, despite everything.

**Author Note: Noel Ardnek asked me an interesting question, which was do I have any idea who I think would play Ivy. Well I had one idea and she suggested a few, but I was wondering if anyone else had any ideas? If you did I'd love to hear them.**


	10. Reaching out

**Disclaimer: this is again to specify that I do not own the borrowed texts and quotes, or anything Harry Potter.**

**Chapter ten: Reaching out**

**You don't need water to feel like you're drowning – Jodi Picoult**

**Ivy**

A slightly chilly breeze blew back my midlength brown hair as I strode forwards, but that didn't bother me, I welcomed it, it cleared my head and relieved me of my thoughts of a little while. Which was exactly what I needed right then. Closing my eyes to enjoy the wind, I stood still a moment, letting it cleanse my mind, before carrying onwards, feeling increasingly content. Autumn was well and truly upon us now, I had long since lost count of the days, I only knew it must be a few weeks since we started living in the forests (and we were all starting to feel it) but I could tell by the changing of the woods around us that time was passing through the seasons. The leaves still on the trees above my head were brilliant golden reds, browns and oranges, giving the sun a brighter tint as it shone through the canopy. Meanwhile the leaves that littered the floor made the muddy ground even more slippery, meaning that I often skidded or fell when walking, too busy lost in thought or admiring the scenery. The weather was still fairly warm though, meaning that I could venture out today in nothing but a pair of boots and a button up coat over my usual clothes, but the air was starting to get a bit nippy, telling me winter wasn't far off.

Treading my way cautiously down a muddy banking, I reached out and brushed a tree with my hand for support, feeling the gnarled roughness through my fingerless gloves. The heavy locket and slim platinum ring bumped against my chest as I half jogged, half slid down to the bottom, but I paid them no mind. I'd become quite fond of my walks of late and made sure to go on one at least once a day, never venturing too far, but wandering just far enough to get a good idea of what the place we were staying was like, today we were in a forest of Hermione's choosing, I didn't know where but it was pleasant here. Yesterday though, we had stayed in the Barnsdale Forest, not too far from where I had lived, which had been a bit sentimental on my part, since I could remember going there as a child.

My walks helped me think, they cleared my head and did me some good, since it fast becomes suffocating being stuck in the tent all the time, lost as to what to do next and hungry. When my spirits were low I came for a wander, reminded myself exactly why we were here and that there was still something to fight for beyond whatever woodland, forest, mountain, moor, or whatever, we were in, and I almost always came back to camp feeling better. I needed these walks because I was starting to get resentful, not towards Harry for bringing us all out here, or Hermione for accidentally letting Yaxley see Grimmauld Place, no, I didn't care about that. What bothered me and in a continuous way, was HIM. But I quickly pushed him from my thoughts, remembering the state I had been in just before I left camp, the hopeless, furious, despair I had been feeling, all alone in the tent, where I wanted nothing more than to fling his ring away from me and cry. No, I was out here to forget about that, because when I got down like that I didn't make for very good company. Much as I hated it I often fell into a brooding silence, where I would find myself wanting nothing more than to apparate to wherever Malfoy was and give him a piece of my mind, I only restrained from doing so by walking off my anger, as I was now.

So, striding over a fallen log, I took several deep breaths and focused intently on the scene around me, it was beautiful and calming, and I needed to think of that and not him. But sometimes it was so hard, especially when it was my turn to wear the Horcrux as it was now. We'd discovered some time ago that wearing it for long periods of time made you crabby, but keeping it with one of us at all times was the only way to be sure it was safe, so we'd decided that every twelve hours it would pass onto someone else, just to make life simpler. When I headed back to camp it would be about time to hand over the Horcrux to its next victim, and part of me was anxious for that to happen, because the fury and pain it stirred up inside of me was something I'd be happy to be shot of, because I was angry at the best of times for the betrayal, but I could usually manage it.

However, the person whose turn it was to wear it next was Ron, and I was reluctant to give it to him. Ron was handling this the worst out of us all, he was hungry, frightened and away from his family, and prone to shouting at all of us even when he wasn't wearing the Horcrux, but put it on him and he was damn near cruel. He routinely blamed Harry for not knowing what we were supposed to do next or getting more information from Dumbledore while he could, he insulted mine and Hermione's food gathering abilities and usually refused to eat whatever we brought, making him even more miserable, and he almost seemed to enjoy asking me why I couldn't just have a useful vision already.

That was also one of the reasons I was out here, to try and coax on a vision, I didn't think it would work, because it had never worked like that, but I thought that maybe if I kept a clear mind and tried to stay calm that would bring on a vision. So far it hadn't worked, but I had to try. In fact, the only vision that I had had since the one about the Horcrux being destroyed, which we still hadn't managed, was the one in my dreams. And that was becoming increasingly troubling. It might sound strange, but the locket seemed to latch onto that vision, I couldn't stop thinking of it when I was sat alone and miserable with the Horcrux on, it always came to the front of my brain, when I could normally ignore it, and words like 'pushover' and 'soft touch' seemed to ring in my ears. Which only served to infuriate me, since those where the last things I was where Malfoy was concerned.

The vision vexed me, it still came practically every night and followed the same pathetic path, I just stood there, atop the Astronomy Tower, watching the snow covered landscape. Then Malfoy caught my attention and I went to him, and, ever since the night before we went into the Ministry, I reached out for him and he reacted. That, in its self was troubling when I was supposed to hate him, but what was far worse was that I often woke to find my hand outstretched, as though I was reaching for something in my sleep. This was unnerving to any of my friends who happened to be awake at the time, or who heard me muttering in my sleep, or who were waking me up from my shift on guard duty. They seemed to sense that something was off, and had asked me about it a few times, but now they seemed to understand that I didn't want to talk about it, or knew there were more important things to be dealing with, and left me be. It bothered me though, that I should be acting like that even only as a result of a dream, it suggested things that I would never even consider any more.

But that wasn't all I was seeing in my vision dreams, every now and again something else joined my vision, attaching its self onto the end. It wasn't there for long, it was just a flash, but it worried me and regularly consumed my thoughts, because of the sheer undiluted terror it caused me when I dreamt it. A huge snake, fangs bared and deadly, shot into my vision at the very end and scared me witless every time it did. I'd told my friends about this part of the vision, because it concerned me so much and I had even started to see it during my waking hours, so clearly it was important. However, none of us could make sense of it and it wasn't an immediate threat, so we left it virtually unexplored, though that didn't sit well with me. I'd recently stopped mentioning it to the others when I saw the snake though, because it only caused Ron to mutter about pointless visions, and I didn't need that, because he was already getting on my nerves.

Suddenly there was a rustling in the bushes ahead of me and I stopped, my hand instinctively reaching for my wand, which was proved pointless when a small woodland animal darted across my path, fleeing my presence. Stupid though it may sound, I jumped just as far as I would have done if it had been a Death Eater at the sight of it, thinking it was a ferret. Pressing my hand to my chest as though to slow my racing heart, and rolling my eyes at how ridiculous I was being, I mentally chastised myself for being so pathetic, it had only been a rabbit, so really it was crazy to even make the connection between the two, but I felt I was edging that way. Towards crazy I mean.

The whole thing with the Patronus ferret was starting to get to me, I'd been pleased at first, living in denial, of course I knew deep down what it meant but I was happy ignoring it, my friends however, were not. The first chance they got they sat me down and asked me about my change in Patronus, all of them knowing what would cause it but wanting to hear it from me. I only needed to think of Tonks, whose Patronus changed to a werewolf when she fell in love with Lupin, a great emotional upheaval on her part, and I was already shying away from the subject. My friends didn't doubt who the Patronus represented, we had all been there the day when Barty Crouch Jr (disguised as Moody) had changed Malfoy into a brilliant white ferret, and they could all connect the dots. So I was a bit stuck, I couldn't exactly deny that the change in my Patronus was linked to him, not when it was so obvious, so instead I opted for more denial and said that they all knew that I had been developing feelings for Malfoy, I'd told them all as much when I came clean after the fight at Hogwarts. But, I argued, the Patronus could just be left over from those feelings, not shifting, or perhaps a reflection of my anger at him, since ferrets didn't necessarily have great connotations. They were reluctant, but dropped the subject. I however, was having a much harder time doing so, and the thought of my ferret kept springing to mind at the most unwelcome times.

I could push it aside though, as I was becoming an expert at doing with unwelcome thoughts, and didn't let myself dwell on it too much. It was only a Patronus after all, it didn't mean anything. However, at that moment my actions betrayed me as; as soon as the thought crossed my mind my hand crept up to my neck, bypassed the heavy locket and griped the platinum ring tightly. I wasn't aware of doing that though; the action was so instinctive that I was no longer conscious of it.

Thankfully, I was spared my thoughts drifting any further into those forbidden topics when the sound of flowing water reached my ears and the riverbank where we had made camp came into view. I couldn't see the camp of course, thanks to all the enchantments Hermione put around it, but I knew exactly where it was and headed straight towards it. I'd had a few problems in the past with being unable to find the camp again after one of my walks, but that was no longer a problem, I'd had enough of getting lost in forests and wandering in circles on moors and so remembered where it was now. Walking through the enchantments I was greeted by the sight of Harry and Hermione huddled over a few fish from the river, intrigued I stepped forwards to help them prepare them for cooking, glad that we would have something substantial for dinner tonight. The fish cooking, I cautiously went into the tent and found Ron sitting on his bed, he had now fully recovered from his splinching incident but still managed to look unwell as he sat there, sickly pale with dark circles around his eyes.

"Hi," I said as I crossed the tent, pulling off the locket as I did so, the relief was instantaneous, I felt some of the weight be lifted from my shoulders and the aching pain in my chest lessen some, to a more manageable level.

Ron looked up and nodded "my turn is it?" he asked, shifting on the camp bed.

"Afraid so," I said as I reached him and dangled the locket from its chain in front of him, he looked at it loathsomely for a moment before taking it from me and slipping it around his neck. "So, how you feeling today then?" I asked conversationally, sitting down on the bed next to him and trying not to be too deterred by his sour expression, which wasn't too hard, as Ron wasn't very intimidating.

"Fine," he said bluntly, before nervously twiddling his thumbs and quickly turning to me, despite how abrupt the action was though I didn't so much as jump, already expecting it. "Did you See," he stressed the word, as though I didn't already know what he meant "anything about my family?"

Sadly I shook my head.

"Sorry, Ron," I said, genuinely regretting not having any news for him, because I was worried about the Weasley's and my own family too "I haven't seen anything new for weeks."

"Tell me about it," he muttered darkly, his expression losing the hopefulness it had had before and now looking shadowed and miserable.

Sensing that he wouldn't appreciate my company and trying not to be too offended, which was difficult when you're operating on the energy from a breakfast of a few stale biscuits, have a short temper any way and are going on a bad nights sleep, but I did my best. I said nothing, just made and 'um' noise of passive agreement and left the sleeping area and headed for the faded armchairs that made up the living room, since Harry and Hermione didn't need me. I sat there for a moment, slightly wound up and not sure what to do with myself, our water supplies didn't need refilling, we had done that only this morning and I was sure in the hour or so I'd been walking they couldn't have used it all, nothing needed cleaning either, and there was no need to grab my Guides book and go food hunting, since the others had taken care of that. I was at a loose end. Thinking about it, I supposed that was also one of the worst points about being here, she sheer pointlessness and helplessness you sometimes felt, it almost seemed sometimes like we didn't have a purpose, like there wasn't even a reason for us being here since we weren't doing anything. It was hard too, to spend all day with virtually nothing to do and it certainly didn't help the mood in camp, we were all anxious to get something done, but there was nothing for us to do.

So, as Hermione watched the fish, Harry inspected the Snitch once more, and Ron stared desolately at the tent roof, I drummed my fingers on the wooden arm of the chair, thinking about what I could do. Then it hit me, and I promptly sprang to my feet, knowing exactly what I needed right then. Grabbing Hermione's beaded bag I summoned out my photo album, which I had almost forgotten I had even brought, and took it back to my armchair, where I curled up comfortably and opened it up, actually pretty excited to look through the pictures. It did me some good right then, to scan the photo's of my family and friends during happier times, to remind myself again what we were doing all this for, and it had been so long since I'd looked through it. I didn't feel even in the slightest bit upset by the pictures, in fact they cheered me up immensely, at least until I reached the Yule Ball photo's and something struck me.

There was a photo missing, right in-between the one of me and Aleksandar dancing together in our clashing robes, and the one of all my friends before we went into the Great Hall, all dressed up in our finery and smiling and waving at the camera, though photo Ron kept throwing half admiring, half annoyed looks at Hermione and Harry kept trying to smooth down his unruly hair. I knew instantly which photo was missing, and I wasn't sorry to see that back of it, I just couldn't understand where it had gone. The absent photo was the awkward one Hermione had taken without my knowledge of Malfoy and I dancing, and I hadn't a clue where it had gone. Racking my brains I tried to remember the last time I'd flicked through the book, so I could figure out where it might be, and honestly couldn't remember, it could have been as far back as Christmas I supposed. Touching the spot where the photo used to be, a frown of confusion set deep in my forehead, I looked up at the others.

"Has anyone seen a photo lying around?" I asked my bewilderment evident in my voice.

Hermione glanced up then "you've lost one?" she asked and I nodded.

"I guess it must have fallen out," I said looking down at the album page again.

"It might be in the bottom of the bag," Hermione suggested from where she was cooking the fish "which one was it? I'll help you find it." she said getting up to help me but I quickly raised my hands to stop her.

"It doesn't matter," I said probably a little too quickly, as Harry raised an eyebrow at me "it wasn't important, I just wondered is all."

Not wanting them to know which photo was missing, or to think that I cared about it, which I didn't, I was glad when no one said any more about it, though Ron did mutter something I couldn't quite catch. Which was probably for the best. No longer in any mood to look through my photo's I shut the album, still frowning and wondering where on Earth the missing picture could be. It didn't matter though, I though as I put the album away and Hermione called us all to dinner, it wasn't like it held any kind of sentimental value.

The fish was nice, probably one of the best meals we'd had since we came out here, and I told Hermione as much which seemed to make her happy. As we ate the conversation turned, as it often did, to the subject of what we would do next. We again listed all the possible things Voldermort might have turned into Horcruxes, Hufflepuff's cup, Nagimi, something of Ravenclaws or Gryffindor's, and we thought about all the places they could be hidden, once again repeating the same old places with no new ideas. The Orphanage where Voldermort had grown up, Hogwarts, where he had first felt at home, Borgin and Burks, where he'd gotten his first job and Albania, where he had spent all those years as something undead. We had already tried the Orphanage, which we found had been knocked down and turned into a tower block of offices, Hogwarts was out of bounds of us now, lest we wanted to get caught, and we'd never have been able to get in Borgin and Burks under normal circumstances, let alone now. Albania too, was out, since it wasn't like we could search the whole country. Which brought us right back to square one, worsened all our moods and caused us to fall into a silence until Ron said,

"My mother, can make really good food appear out of thin air."

This offended Hermione greatly, not only because it was a slight against her cooking, but also because Ron was wrong. This sparked an argument about the Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, gender roles and led to Ron being designated the task of cooking the next day. Harry and I had to play referees to their shouting match, which was also getting tiresome since they always seemed to be at each others throats, however, even I was shocked when Harry told Hermione to shut up. I stared at him in disbelief, having thought Hermione actually had a point; all Ron ever did was sit around and moan, he ought to actually try doing something for a change, and Harry was way out of line by taking his side. However, that was the wrong conclusion to jump to, as it turned out Harry had heard something beyond the camp, and after he checked that all the enchantments were still in place, which I could vouch for since I hadn't seen or heard the camp until I passed through them, we all gathered close to the tent door, stuck in some extendable ears, and listened.

Voices could be heard from outside, first of all we didn't recognise any of them, but then someone spoke and Harry had a reaction to them, noticing this we all looked at him questioningly and he identified one of the speakers as Teddy Tonks, Tonks' father. Thinking a little sadly of my Metamorphmagus friend, who I hadn't heard from since she sent me a letter with her husband Lupin, when he came to visit us at Grimmauld Place, ultimately asking to come with us on our mission and forcing Harry to chase him out, lest he abandon his wife and unborn child. I missed her and was upset to learn that her father, who was a Muggleborn, was on the run to avoid being caught and I knew that must be hard for her.

There was another familiar voice out by the riverbank, catching salmon with the others; it belonged to Dean Thomas, our fellow Gryffindor and also a Muggleborn. It was also distressing to hear him out there, having to run for his life, he had always been a nice person and I had always liked him, even if I was actually closer to Seamus out of the two of them. Though despite how it wasn't right that he had to exile himself like this, I supposed it was better he was on the run, as safe as he could be, than in the corrupt Ministry's clutches. Also joining Mr Tonks and Dean was someone who was familiar to us only in name, Dirk Cresswell, who we'd heard a lot about whilst in the Ministry and who Runcorn had caused to be captured, though he had escaped and run away. In addition to the three Muggleborns there were also two Goblins in the group, by the name of Griphook and Gornuk.

Harry, Hermione and I all listened with interest as the five talked about their time on the run, how they had escaped and why they had decided to leave, but we listened more avidly when one of the Goblins, Griphook, explained why he had left the Magical World. He spoke of being asked the perform tasks he felt were beneath him, but more to our interest, he spoke of his revenge against the wizards who tried to own him. He had not told Severus Snape that the sword of Gryffindor, which he was asked to put in a Gringotts vault, was a fake. Wide eyed we all looked at each other then, seeing the significance of this, however, it was promptly driven from our minds by what Dirk said next. He talked about a group of kids at Hogwarts, who had tried to steal the sword from Snape's office and had been severely punished for it. All of our minds started to reel then, thinking of our remaining friends, who knew of the fact that the sword had been left to Harry, and were the only ones to have reason to take it. We still waited though, hoping that it hadn't been them, but that hope was in vain as Dirk confirmed that one of the kids had been Bill Weasley's younger sister and at that I was sure that all of us, especially Harry whose expression had become agonised, felt our hearts plummet. Dirk continued on, saying that the kids were alright, but that they had been harshly punished by Snape for the attempt, which made all our bloods boil I was sure, but brought some relief at the same time. They were okay.

Their conversation then turned on to Harry and the wizards debated his believability, wondering whether he would come through for the Wizarding World, Dean championed him of course, and Teddy Tonks was right there with him in that, Dirk was unsure though, but hopeful that Harry could do something. However, one thing they all agreed on was Harry's, or rather our, ability to evade capture, and all said they would take tips from us any day. They went away then and we all reeled in the ears.

"Ginny…" Harry said quickly "the sword…"

"It's okay," I said gripping his arm reassuringly "she's okay, they said so and they have no reason to lie about it. Who do you suppose was with her?" I asked my gaze flicking between them "when she went to get the sword?"

Hermione suggested that it was Neville and Luna, and Harry and I watched her in mild confusion as she snatched up her beaded bag, which was a slightly odd reaction to the news, and reached deep inside it. Struggling she pulled out the portrait of Phineas Nigellus she had put in there while we were still at Grimmauld Place, to keep him from spying on us and reporting back to Snape. She then said that if anyone had swapped the real sword for a fake when it was in Dumbledore's office, then he would have seen it. When Phineas Nigellus appeared in his frame, after a bit of coaxing and some pleases, Hermione instantly blindfolded him with a swift flick of her wand, to keep him from seeing where we were, and as he raged about it Harry asked him about the sword, gaining his attention when Nigellus figured out who was speaking. He then confirmed our suspicions that it was Neville and Luna who had gone with Ginny to get the sword, insulting them all and calling them fools for trying to steal from Snape, which got all out backs up. Ron yelled at him to shut up about his sister and Harry snapped that the sword wasn't Snape's property; I meanwhile muttered something insultive at the former headmaster which Hermione covered up as she reminded us all we needed to be polite to him.

Unwilling, the boys and I fell silent as Hermione asked what had happened to the students who had tried to steal the sword and Phineas Nigellus told us that they had been sent to the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid to do some work.

"Snape might have thought that was punishment," Harry said triumphantly "but Ginny, Neville and Luna probably had a good laugh with Hagrid. The Forbidden Forest…they've faced plenty worse than the Forbidden Forest, big deal!"

Hermione then went on to ask if the sword had been taken from its case at all, before Ginny and the others tried to get it, perhaps for cleaning or something like that, which caused him to insult Hermione, calling her a simple girl and telling us that Goblin made armour didn't need cleaning.

"Hermione isn't simple!" I exclaimed "she only asked you a question." I snapped, hating anyone who insulted my friends, especially for no good reason. Phineas Nigellus was just a stuck up Pureblood, who thought that alone made him somehow of superior intellect to the rest of us and that alone made me dislike him.

Phineas Nigellus wasn't interested though, he simply said that he was bored of contradiction and went to leave, prompting Harry to shout out, asking for him to bring Dumbledore here though the painting. This caused another reproach from Nigellus, who called Harry stupid for not knowing that the portraits could only leave Hogwarts to visit their other portraits, and that despite the fact they could visit their neighbours frames inside the school, they could not venture beyond through them. After this rant he once again made a move to leave, however Hermione stopped him, asking again after the last time the sword had been taken from its case. And with great reluctance and irritation Phineas Nigellus told us that it had been when Dumbledore used it to crack open a ring. This was all we needed to know, because Harry and Hermione shared a joint look of understanding and it didn't take me long to figure out what this meant. It was the sword, the sword could destroy Horcruxes.

"Goblin made blades imbibe only that which strengthens them – Harry, that swords impregnated with Basilisk venom!" Hermione exclaimed enthusiastically when Nigellus was gone and she had stuffed his frame back in her bag.

"From second year?" I asked, feeling excited myself as I looked between the two of them "when Harry used it to kill the Basilisk?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed before glancing at Hermione and saying "and Dumbledore didn't give it to me before he died because he still needed it, he wanted to use it on the locket-"

"- and he must have realised they wouldn't let you have it if he put it in his will-" Hermione continued not missing a beat.

"- So he made a copy- " Harry added as our minds whirled at a hundred miles an hour, joyfully figuring this out.

" – and that's the one in the glass case- " I input quickly before Hermione added,

"- and he left the real one…where?"

That stumped us, I didn't have the foggiest idea where Dumbledore might leave the sword for us to find, and sharing a look with the other two as we continued to rack our brains I let them talk, sure I wouldn't be able to figure it out. I hadn't been as close to Dumbledore as Harry, though he had spoken to me fairly regularly, so wouldn't know where he might leave it, and I wasn't as smart as Hermione, so I left them to it, though I still pondered the question. Harry and Hermione threw a few suggestions in, including Hogwarts and the Shrieking Shack, which they instantly dismissed, as Snape would be able to find them there. So, Harry reasoned that the Sword must be someone far away from Hogsmeade, Hermione and I agreed, since Dumbledore hadn't trusted Snape enough to tell him the swords had been swapped so he wouldn't have trusted him with this. We were all excited, on our feet and pacing as we tried to understand this new problem, thoughts rushing from our brains to our mouths at incredible speeds and giving us a sense of anticipation we hadn't felt for weeks, however, this all changed when Harry asked Ron what he thought.

"Oh, remembered me, have you?" Ron asked bitterly from where he stood, a little off to the side of us, a stormy expression in place.

We were all a bit taken aback by Ron's mood, he had seemed fine only a moment ago, and while we were used to his sudden sulks this felt like something different, there was a fire flickering in his eyes, which had dull and lifeless for weeks now, his hands were in fists by his sides and he seemed to almost be radiating anger. This wasn't a good sign. Harry asked Ron what he meant as the abruptly furious redhead turned his back on us and crossed the room, threw himself down sulkily on the bottom bunk and staring unblinkingly upwards. Hermione and I shared an anxious look.

The floodgates opened then and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it, every little thing that had bothered Ron over the past few weeks came rushing out of his mouth in the wake of this final straw, the news that there was yet another thing we had to try and find and the danger his sister had been in. Ron didn't hold back and seemed to be to be addressing Harry and Hermione mainly, and left me out of his shouting. He seemed to be hurt by the amount of time the two if them spent together, planning, brainstorming and just generally talking. He seemed jealous to me and I could see that I hadn't really helped matters by disappearing off for my long walks, what with that and Ron's miserable silence Harry and Hermione really had no one to talk to but each other.

But still, Ron only seemed to want to rant and rage at them, or he did, at least until he had finished complaining about how this whole thing had been one giant misery for him, how he hated it and sarcastically adding how he was sorry if he was spoiling Harry and Hermione's fun by saying all this. His mood only darkened with every word he said and by the time he'd shouted at Harry that he'd expected him to at least have some kind of plan and insulted Harry so thoroughly that Harry had snapped back, he rounded on me as well. As I had the poor foresight to get involved.

"Ron," I said firmly but also quite soothingly, wanting to try and calm him down as he was saying stuff I knew he couldn't possibly mean and I was sure he'd regret it in the morning "this isn't Harry's fault-" I attempted to say but Ron cut across me.

"Yeah, that's it," he said coldly "you take his side as well, I knew you would."

"It's not about taking sides!" I exclaimed, trying to keep control of my annoyance, since I was sick of Ron's moods, we all had to deal with the same crap he did, why was he the only one acting like this? Didn't he think we were finding it hard too? "It's about getting through this and getting the job done. Together."

Ron snorted at that and I narrowed my eyes "Alright, whatever, because you're one to preach about us sticking together! You're never here any more, always off somewhere brooding over Malfoy and being all heartbroken-"

"Don't you dare!" I hissed, feeling a prang in my heart at his words and sensing my face begin to colour in rage and humiliation, however Ron carried on anyway.

"Merlin only knows why you care so much! But we all know that's what you're doing all day; thinking about him and how much he 'hurt' you. So you can't talk about us doing this together. Maybe if you stopped thinking about him for five minutes you'd be able to focus and have a halfway useful vision!"

"And maybe if you grew a pair and stopped complaining all the time, the rest of us might be able to stop walking on eggshells long enough to figure out what to do next!" I snapped, furious at what he had just said to me and not about to take it lying down, Ron was going to finally get a piece of my mind.

"You go on about me, 'brooding' all day," I continued, my tone mocking when I repeated his word "but you'd know all about that wouldn't you! You're not even making an effort, the rest of us are trying so hard and you just sit there and complain, so you have no right to shout at us!" I yelled, not even going to attempt to hold back, he'd wounded me so much with what he'd said.

I watched him as his expression grew even stormier, but I couldn't have cared less, his moods were bringing down the whole camp and we never said anything, yet he had the gall to bring up our faults! There was a fire raging inside me now; eating up everything inside me, all my calmness, until only hurt and anger remained. Ron was supposed to be my friend, how could he say those things to me? Eyes narrowed in pain and irritation I gritted my teeth as I looked at him, finding myself hating him for what he had said to me, mentioning Malfoy was a low blow, something that hurt me so much and I had thought that even in his worst moods Ron would never say something like that to me. But he had and now I was furious.

"Ron, please," Hermione injected desperately "you don't mean this."

However, other than a quick, heavy glance in her direction Ron didn't respond to her, he just turned back to me with eyes as hard as stones and venom in his voice.

"At least I'm sulking for a good reason," he said harshly and I bristled, the furious colour in my cheeks deepening.

"What reason?" I mercilessly shot back "the lack of food in your poor little belly?"

Ron's ears coloured and his scowl deepened as he spat back his response "my family!" he exclaimed "I'm thinking of my family, what they're going through, how they are, which is more than I can say for you, I'll bet you haven't thought of your family once, just HIM!"

I couldn't help myself, I recoiled as though Ron had slapped me, shocked and appalled that he could even think such a thing, when I had come to live with him after sending my family into hiding, when he knew how much I hated being parted from them and not knowing how they were. Seeing red I leapt forwards.

"What the Hell do you know?" I shouted as Harry caught me around the waist and held me back, stopping me from lunging at Ron "You haven't a clue what's going on in my head, or how I feel, you're too selfish and too dense to!"

"Ivy," Harry said in a tone that was almost soothing, though both his voice and his body were still shaking with rage at what Ron had already said "he doesn't mean it, he doesn't know what he'd saying."

"It's the locket," Hermione said almost tearfully "Ron, take of the locket!"

However, as I fought to free myself from Harry's grip and take my fury out on Ron, my mahogany hair forever getting in my eyes, causing me to puff out angrily to blow it away and scowl all the more, Ron ignored Hermione again and addressed Harry and I.

"I know exactly what I'm saying, it's exactly what Hermione's been saying about you, and what both of you have been saying about Ivy. Neither one of you know what you're doing, and it's no use denying it," he said glancing at Hermione for the first time in minutes as she shook her head in sad denial "I know what you said."

"I only meant that I wished Dumbledore had told you more," she instead, looking at Harry, whose expression had now hardened, pleadingly, before turning to me with tears in her eyes "and I know how hard it is for you," she said to me, though I was ridged in Harry's grip and I could feel my fire and strength slipping away from me. They had been talking about me behind my back, talking about Malfoy and me, and that thought was hard for me to grasp, it made me feel humiliated all over again.

"Ivy, I know you've got a lot to deal with, I was only hoping that you got over him soon, for your own good." She said almost sobbing and I felt my resolve harden, though not at her.

Hating how he had stripped away all our hope, leaving exactly what this was bare for us to see, a botched operation, where four teenagers were running around on half facts and theories with no real chance of success, I turned my narrowed gaze on Ron. I was angry, unable to believe that he was selfish enough to do this to us, to blame us for everything and act like he was, but I didn't hate him, I hated what he was doing and what this was.

"So why are you still here?" Harry asked in a tone that appeared to be calm but had a furious shaking undertone and he let go of me, though now I made no move to go to Ron "If I've let you down so much and Ivy can't tell you what you want to hear?"

"Search me," Ron said plainly, his own fire dwindling but his dark look firmly in place, he felt no remorse for what he had said to us.

"Go home then," Harry said firmly.

"Yeah, maybe I will!" Ron said his tone suddenly menacing as he took a step towards Harry, who did not back down "Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? But you don't give a rat's fart, do you, its only the Forbidden Forest, Harry Ive'-Faced-Worse Potter doesn't care what happens to her in there, well, I do, all right, giant spiders and mental stuff-"

Hermione took a step towards me, her expression as pained as my own was hard, though I couldn't stand to see Harry and Ron fight either, it was different when I was yelling at one of them, though I suppose that it shouldn't be, but when they argued it felt more serious some how. We both watched and listened, not sure what to do as Harry, not about to take Ron's words lying down, since we all knew how he cared for Ginny, cut across his long time friend.

"I was only saying – she was with the others, they were with Hagrid-"

"- yeah, I get it, you don't care! And what about the rest of my family, 'the Weasley's don't need another kid injured', did you hear that? That's what they said out there, or weren't you bothered about that part?" Ron snapped and I felt some more of my fury leave me, seeing how hurt he was but still not about to forgive the harsh and unwarranted stuff he had said to all of us. I felt like I was in over my head then, like all of this had suddenly become too much, and we were all drowning under our emotions and the weight of the task we had to complete.

Harry tried to tell Ron that he cared, but Ron wasn't having anything to do with it, however, with each word they spat at each other the boys took a threatening step towards each other, their jaws firmly set and their hands balled into fists. Hermione immediately rushed forwards to separate them, and angry though I was, I couldn't leave them to fight. So, for the same reason Harry had stopped me, because I would regret it in the morning, I pulled him back while Hermione put a steadying hand on Ron's chest.

"Ron," she said forcing him backwards as Harry tried to free himself from my grip so he could get at Ron "I don't think it means anything new has happened, anything we don't know about; think Ron, Bill's already scarred, plenty of people must have seen that George has lost an ear by now, and you're supposed to be on your deathbed with spattergroit, I'm sure that's all he meant-"

"Oh you're sure, are you? Right then, well, I won't bother myself about them." He chided her harshly and I turned to look at him.

"She's probably right you know," I said in my friends defence "Cresswell won't have meant anything by it."

"Well aren't you the voice of reason?" Ron snapped his hard gaze finding mine and causing me to force myself calm, because I could feel self righteous anger filing me up again and I knew deep down that all of it wasn't because of Ron. I had to stop myself from taking out all my rage on him. "Or else, could it be the great Seer has actually Seen something? It'd be the first time in weeks!"

I didn't respond, I wouldn't let myself and while I fumed at his words I did my best to chock it all up to the Horcrux and told myself he didn't mean what he was saying as I fought to restrain Harry, who seemed to have had enough.

Ron continued though "It's all right for you three, isn't it, with your parents safely out of the way-"

"My parents are dead!" Harry roared and I almost flinched at the sound, but didn't because I was too preoccupied by the furious tears in his eyes and understanding how much Ron's words had just cut him.

"And mine could be going the same way!" Ron yelled back, unable to see the agony in his friend's expression as I could.

"Then GO!" Harry shouted having enough and, taking me by surprise, he ducked out of my restraint and started towards Ron, fear filled me as I followed after him, trying to restrain him, all previous thoughts of my own pain forgotten in the wake of how these two needed Hermione and I.

"Go back to them," Harry bellowed as he pulled his arm from my reach.

"Harry, don't," I warned but he ignored me and continued on.

"Pretend you've got over your spattergroit and Mummy'll be able to feed you up and-"

Ron made a sudden movement; as though to hit Harry or draw his wand, but Hermione was quicker and she was shouting "protego!" before either one of them could so much as blink. I was standing firmly by her side in an instant.

The boys just stood there on either side of the transparent shield, looking at each other as if truly seeing each other for the first time, and they didn't look to like what they saw, both of their gazes were narrowed and looks of twin hatred were on their faces. This wasn't good, both Hermione and I could feel it, I could tell by the way her wand hand quivered, something had changed between them, a line had been crossed.

"Leave the Horcrux," Harry said as Ron turned away with a cold expression in place, quickly took off the locket and dropped it onto an armchair as he passed it.

"What are you doing?" he asked looking at Hermione, whose expression quickly morphed to one of confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked him, while he stood there, refusing to look at anything but her.

"Are you staying, or what?" he asked and Hermione looked torn.

"I…" she said, looking between Harry and I and Ron "yes – yes, I'm staying. Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help-" she said uselessly as Ron wasn't listening any more, his expression had closed up and he was walking away.

"I get it. You choose him." he said in such a stiff way but with such anguish in his voice that I knew why his question had been only for Hermione and not me, though I had insulted him greatly, and I understood the true sense of his words. It had always been obvious that Ron had feelings for Hermione, and vice versa, but that question had been a chance for Hermione to choose him, and he now felt that she preferred Harry, which was ridiculous.

"Ron, no – please – come back, come back!" she insisted as she ran forwards towards him, her way blocked by her shield, however by the time she had taken it down Ron was already heading out the tent, but that did not deter her. She chased after him, trying to stop him leaving and I quickly went to follow, however, I stopped when I saw Harry standing still were he was, expressionless.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked "we need to stop him."

"If he wants to go, let him," Harry said though his gaze didn't leave where it was staring and his voice was a croaky monotone, telling me his mind was elsewhere "you can't want him to stay, not after what he said to you?"

"That doesn't matter," I said as I blinked away the tears that were starting to form in my eyes as what this truly meant began to sink in, and surprising myself with my words. "He's our friend."

And without waiting for a response or saying anything more I jogged out of the tent, my hair blowing back off my face as I met with a wall of cold night air, quickly glancing around I looked for Hermione. Spotting her beyond the bubble of enchantments I hurried forwards, alarmed when I couldn't see Ron anywhere and only just noticing that it was raining heavily when the fat droplets crashed down against my head, plastering my hair down and clearing my mind. Yes Ron had crossed the line, I thought as I ran to my friend who was just standing there in the rain, yes he had said things that hurt me greatly, but he had only been doing it because he was frightened, angry and felt lonely out here. Besides, I'd said just as terrible things to him as he had to me. I reached Hermione, my feet slapping loudly against the muddy ground as I came to a stop, realising as I did that I was too late, that he had already gone. Just as I had realised what was a great deal for me, because I wasn't one to forgive those who hurt me.

"He's gone," she said simply, her voice so quiet and agonised that I felt my heart break for her.

Saying nothing I reached out and wrapped an arm around my distraught friend, my cold skin meeting with the damp fabric of her jumper, and giving her a reassuring squeeze, even as my own tears leaked steadily from my eyes, Ron had left us, but Hermione needed comforting the most. Wordlessly I turned her around, rubbing comforting circles in her back as she had when I had broken down, I let her cry as I guided her back into the tent and out of the freezing rain. Looking like drowned rats we returned to find Harry still exactly where we had left him, seemingly in a daze.

He snapped out of that at our arrival, took in our drenched appearances and the distinct absence of Ron and I saw his expression sadden before Hermione had even told him Ron had disapparated. That job done she stepped away from me and silently sat herself in one of the arm chairs, wrapped her arms around her legs and just sat there. I shared a silent look with Harry, who pulled the blankets from Ron's bunk and carefully wrapped them around her, as I went about the tent dimming the lights. Harry then picked up the Horcrux, wordlessly slipped it around his neck, walked over to me and gave my hand a quick squeeze, before sliding into his own bed and staring blankly upwards.

For a moment I didn't move, not sure what to do with myself I looked between my two remaining friends and saw my own sorrow echoed back at me, which was enough to make me turn away and crawl onto my own bunk, where I just lay, letting tears run freely down my cheeks. How could we let Ron go? How could he want to leave us? I thought painfully as I lay there, unable to sleep, reliving the whole sorry argument over and over in my mind, wishing I'd shown more restraint, but still furious and hurt by what Ron had said to me, as much as I missed him. What were we going to do now? I wondered as I brushed my fingers against the warm platinum of the ring around my neck, it had always been the four of us, cheesy though it may sound I had always thought the four of us could do anything, if only we were together. How could we possibly survive as a trio? It didn't seem possible. And to top all of this off unwanted thoughts kept pestering at me now, Ron's cruel words echoing in my mind and causing me to question myself, was he right about me? No, I thought firmly as I turned to lay on my side, curling up into a tight ball, my walks helped me forget things like Malfoy and cope with what was happening, but I wasn't brooding over him, Ron didn't know what he was talking about, I was over Malfoy, the only emotion I could spare for him was murderous rage. Ron was wrong, but that didn't matter now, he was gone and it didn't look like he was ever coming back, and we were stuck here without him.

**Author note: not my best work, I will admit, but a fairly speedily updated chapter and progress towards the ones which will hopefully be better, like the next few, which I am looking forward to writing. Anywho, I'd love to hear what you think to this, and would also be much obliged if you would take the poll on my profile. Last chapter I asked you for actresses you thought would play a convincing Ivy, some reviewer suggestions and my own ideas are up there now, so if you'd check the links provided (bear with them) and vote, I'd appreciate it.**

**Anonymous Reviews: a quick but special thank you to Aoi for the long, thoughtful and very amazing review left on the last chapter. Thank you so much dear, it was amazingly inspiring, and such a compliment, this was the first fanfic you have ever commented on! Wow, I feel honoured. Haha, you're right, I don't know why I never thought to link them to that song before, but you're so right, it fits Ivy's feelings for Draco perfectly. Thank you once more for your kind words, much love.**


	11. Take a look at me now

**Author note: yeah, the last chapter wasn't all that great, but hopefully things are looking up here with a lovely dose of Draco!**

**Chapter eleven: Take a look at me now**

**"We meet people and fall in love and when we part they leave marks for us to remember them by. Our lovers sculpt us; they define us, for better or worse. Like a pinball, we slam into them and rebound in our different directions propelled by the contact and after the parting we might be scared, stronger or more fragile, or needy, or angry, or guilty, but never unchanged. Our lovers linger inside us, like ghosts, haunting the corridors and deserted rooms, sometimes whispering, sometimes screaming, but always there waiting..." - said by George in 'Being Human'**

**Draco**

The chill night wind gusted across the Astronomy Tower, so fierce that it disturbed the sitting snow lying on the tops of the battlements, and whipped up the white flurries falling from the midnight skies into a blizzard. A thick layer of snow already coated everything in sight, visible even in the dark night by the sheer dazzling contrast between the black and white, making everything stand out even though the sun had long since set. Bellow the tower and out in the grounds, the snow sparkled like glitter, sprinkled there by a transcendent child, where the golden light thrown from the castle windows hit it. The night was beautiful; the kind of stunning winter evening which one couldn't help but notice, the school and its grounds looked so picturesque and perfect. Even though most of the inhabitants of the school were already asleep, there was still a cheerful mood about the place, all good humour and optimism, despite these dark times they lived in. There was still an insatiable joviality, the kind that you could only feel around Christmas time when snow covered the grounds and shining decorations filled the castle, which together with the simple beauty of the scenery lifted even the heaviest heart. All but one anyway. Draco Malfoy didn't notice any of this, the schools natural wintery splendour was lost on him.

The young Death Eater just sat under the shelter, his knees pulled tight against his chest and his arms wrapped around them to keep him warm against the cold he could no longer feel. His glacial eyes were trained firmly ahead, unseeing. Letting the bitter wind toy with his pale blond hair, blowing it about on his forehead, Draco and his thoughts were a million years away from this snow covered scene. Or so it felt to him.

Draco had been back at school for four months and could safely say, hand on heart, that they were the longest and most deadening four months he had ever had to endure, including the whole of last year. He had been right in his assumptions about what life would be like here now, one hundred percent so. Nothing was the same at Hogwarts now, and yet at the same time very little had changed, only a few things were absent and others were intensified. Nothing seemed easy any more, he couldn't bring himself to act the way he normally would, he hadn't the desire to really, so he was left to try and create a new Draco, which in the current time and place, and given the events of last year, was no easy job. Leaving his Death Eater duties at home and trying to understand how the past year had changed him was proving difficult.

Draco could barely stomach things as they were now, the Slytherin house, so proud of all the shameful things he had done last year, expected Draco to be the same proud, sarcastic person he was before, and to a degree he was, just not a large enough degree to fit in with them any more. He was so altered now that while he was still full of pride for being a Pureblood and would still have a sharp tongue, he didn't want to do any of the things the others expected of him, he just wanted to be alone, to be away from it all. But of course that couldn't happen, at least not often, you don't play a vital part in the murder of one of the greatest wizards to ever live, without there being consequences. Draco rarely got a moment to himself, even though he was irritable and made for bad company, the times when he escaped to the Astronomy Tower, putting the skills he learned for sneaking around last year into practice, were the only time he got to be alone with his thoughts. His house took up so much of his time because they acted either one of two ways around him now. His fellows either feared him immensely for what he had done, and treat him with such terrified respect that you'd sometimes think he was the Dark Lord himself! That was not a thought that sat well with Draco, and the blonds' already furrowed brows frowned deeper.

But it was only a small number of his house that acted like that though, the younger years mainly, the rest revered him as some kind of hero to be praised and rallied round, someone to aspire to and someone to help them get in the Dark Lord's favour. This Draco didn't appreciate in the slightest, because it irritated him how clueless and ignorant they were, how they thought he was proud of what he had done and how they wanted to be like him now. He thought them idiots, even though they were only acting as he would have (and was) last year. The rest of the school, meanwhile, were also split amongst themselves as to how they treat Draco, though they had different options to the Slytherins. The other students were either out right terrified of him and avoided him at all costs, lest he kill them with his gaze alone, or else they hated him and treat him with as much open contempt as they could get away with in a school run by Death Eaters. Even the teachers treat him differently, Draco had noticed, though he had expected as much given how close they were to Dumbledore. Their whole demeanour was cold when they spoke to him and he could see barely retrained hate in their eyes when they looked at him.

Draco didn't care too much though, it wasn't like he wasn't used to being disliked, even though this was easily twice as bad as it had ever been before. There was nothing that he could do about it anyway and in truth he didn't care what they thought, they could all think what they wanted of him, only Draco knew the truth: that he was nothing to be feared, respected or even hated that much, he was just a boy who had gotten in too deep over his head. He'd never admit that out loud of course, but he had come to a point where he could say it to himself. Besides, there was only one person whose opinion mattered to Draco, and she already hated him. So what was the point?

Draco's indifference, or rather numbness, didn't stop the other students from treating him as they did though, when Draco fell into a stony silence as they praised his work of last year, or chanted his name at the dinner table, they carried on acting like he was some great person, even though he felt like anything but. And the younger students still jumped a mile when they saw him, before running away as fast as they could, or insulted him under their breath as they passed him and tried to jinx him. Draco could only grimace and bear it, though his hands may ball into fists and he might shake with rage for what they did, he did nothing, because he hadn't the will to. Gradually the other Slytherins had begun to notice his moroseness, in-between loudly saying how much better the school was without Potter and his friends and taking bets on how long it would be before the Snatchers got them and all the Mudbloods who were in hiding, they seemed to notice Draco's heart wasn't in it. He never spoke any more, he just sat there, with a frown in place and thinking all the time, occasionally throwing out a sharp comment at one in the group, but never really contributing. Pansy cornered him about it a few times, but he just snapped at her and told her to mind her own business, that he was fine and could act how he pleased.

The truth was; he couldn't see the point in his being here. Not for the same reasons as last year though, where he had thought that by the end of his Sixth year he would be so respected, so powerful amongst the Death Eaters for completing his mission, that he wouldn't need to return to education and could get a job anywhere in the new Wizarding Word just because of who he was. No, this year he couldn't see the point in his being here because the place seemed empty to him, dull and inane. One long meaningless year stretched out before him and he honestly couldn't see what he would have at the end of it, a few letters on a scrap of paper that said he was qualified. What good would that do him, when he wasn't sure he could even make it through this year without going insane?

He hadn't noticed before now, how much she had made this place bearable the last few years. Arguing with her, befriending her, arguing with her again, she had subconsciously become a massive part of his life, what he enjoyed most about being here, and without her none of what he normally did, like lording it over the other students because he was a prefect or jinxing kids in the corridor, had any appeal any more. He was changed as well, the sobering events of the past year, since it was almost Christmas and almost a year since he had apparated to Ivy's house and all this had begun, had altered him, he'd seen too much to take pleasure in petty bullying. He'd seen his future, he'd lived it during the summer and would relive it when he went back home in a week for the Christmas Holidays. His entire purpose was to be to serve the Dark Lord for the rest of his life, no matter what he wanted. And Draco wasn't sure he could do that, the horror of all the Dark Lord had asked him to do, half causing Dumbledore's death and torturing Rowle, all haunted him in his sleep.

So, there wasn't a great deal for Draco to be happy about, and it was starting to show. He was twice as sharp and snappy as before, if anyone said any little thing to him he was sure to bite their head off about it, and he fell into seemingly never-ending pensive silences, which annoyed and baffled his Slytherin friends. That was partly why Draco had taken to coming up here, to the Astronomy Tower, just to sit and be away from it all, and think when everything grew too much for him because it frequently did, as there was only so much hate one person could suffer through, and so much self disgust and misery one could bear. His solution, if you could call it one, was just to sit up here, away from everything, and to let whatever thought popped up run freely across his mind, as now he was alone he had no reason to try and restrain them.

He thought of Ivy often, though he tried not to because it didn't help his mood and he came up here to try and clear his head, but he couldn't keep his mind away from her for too long, it seemed every thought he had lead back to her. Everywhere reminded him of her, of some instance when he had seen her here, or spoken to her there and each time he remembered something like that a jolt would run through him, shocking him from whatever stupor he was in and reminding him of what he had done to her. He had lied to her, betrayed her and left her, and now they were on opposite sides of this great war with no hope of a middle ground to meet on. Draco almost scoffed at this idea as soon as he thought it; even if there was a middle ground he knew Ivy wouldn't want anything to do with him anyway. He knew her well enough to know that she had used up all her forgiveness, where he was concerned, the last time and he didn't expect her to be wiling to forgive him. And despite how much that infuriated him, because she didn't know all the facts, she didn't know that the Dark Lord had threatened Draco and his parents to get him to do it, she didn't know how much he regretted his actions last year, how much he wished he had not hurt her, he loved her all the more for what he knew to be her stubborn determination. Stupid fool that he was, he thought, chastising himself. He needed to get over her, this one girl who seemed to have such an unshakeable hold on him, he needed to move on, to forget her and get on with his life as the Dark Lord's slave, but he knew he couldn't and he enjoyed thinking about her too much.

Not so much as shivering when the cold night wind blew through his open collar and looped itself around his neck, sending chills down his spine which he didn't even feel, as his thoughts were too far away. Today one memory had fixed its self to him, one that he had been avoiding thinking about at all costs since he returned here, but there was nothing he could do to shake it off, he had known, coming here as he did every day, that he would have to face it sooner or later, but he really didn't want to have to. Sitting as he was, he was staring out, however unseeingly, at the very spot where Albus Dumbledore had been murdered, something which happened, in no small way, because of him and ate up the conscious he was hardly aware he even had until this last year. However, despite all this, and how regardless of how he had never liked the headmaster Draco was sorry for his part in his murder, it wasn't Dumbledore's death that he dwelled on, but rather his words, which at the time had hit a nerve with Draco, given what he had just done, but looking back only seemed to taunt him with thoughts of what could have been.

He had just left Ivy locked in the Astronomy classroom, tearing himself away from her he could still feeling the bittersweet sting of their goodbye in his hollowing heart and the feel the pressure of her soft lips against his own. A loath and furious Draco had sped up the steps to the top of the tower, managing to propel himself forwards despite how unjust this all felt, to where he found Dumbledore mercifully alone, disarmed him, and tried to carry out this unwanted task. He was firm at first, stubbornly pushing all fond thoughts and wishes to do with the girl downstairs away from him and trying to not worry too much about what might happen to her alone with all these Death Eaters about, he gave Dumbledore as much of his full attention as he could spare. This was it, the moment this whole year had been leading up to, the moment when he would free himself and his family from the Dark Lords threat and take the power and the glory he could no longer bring himself to want, but felt he was owed for what he was giving up. He was trembling as Dumbledore, cool as anything in the face of death, asked him how he had managed to get the Death Eaters here. Half agitated, half pleased to be able put off actually completing the mission, Draco explained about the vanishing cabinets and so on, since Dumbledore was going to die anyway and the Death Eaters were already in.

"Draco, Draco," Dumbledore said softly as Draco fought with his already wavering resolve, as the thought of actually killing the man before him entered his head, properly, for the first time and his stomach rolled. "You are not a killer."

Annoyed at being told what he was and wasn't by a man who didn't know him, or being doubted in his abilities when he had come this far, already sacrificed so much for this, Draco's expressive hardened and his retrained his wand on the older wizard.

"How do you know?" he asked quickly, before hearing how childish his words sounded, even to him and correcting his tone as he added, so he sounded more dangerous "you don't know what I'm capable of, you don't know what I've done!"

"Oh, yes, I do," Dumbledore said calmly though with a disapproving edge to his voice which caused Draco to bristle "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts… so feeble, to be honest, I wonder whether your heart has really been in it…"

"It has been in it!" Draco insisted fervently, his cheeks colouring and his mind flying back downstairs, to where he had left his heart, but Dumbledore couldn't possibly know that. The old wizard smiled.

"Of course," Dumbledore said inclining his head as though to concede the point. "Though I must say, and again you must forgive me if I am too presumptuous, but I had believed that your heart was otherwise occupied."

Draco froze, just for a second he stopped and hesitated, just for a moment before he blinked and narrowed his gaze, feeling his cheeks flame all the more and his expression harden.

"Well you're wrong!" he exclaimed forcefully before adding a threat just so they understood each other "you can say what you like, but it won't distract me, it won't change what's going to happen."

Dumbledore, however, looked unaffected by Draco's latter words and simply said, "It wasn't an accusation, Draco, just the observation of an old hopeless romantic. I take a keen interest in my students, and I have seen a distinct difference in the way you are around Miss Jones," Draco's posture tightened, giving Dumbledore all the proof, if ever he needed any, that his words were the truth "to the way you are around others. Though I may be wrong, I make mistakes just as others do." he added with a meaningful look at Draco.

The blond boy, meanwhile, was in the midst of an internal battle, as too many emotions raged inside him at the headmasters words, annoyance that Dumbledore knew his most secret feelings that even he couldn't admit to having properly until today, embarrassment that he was so transparent, irritation that he was bringing her up now, when he was trying to forget her so he could do this one horrible thing, and a quick jolt of something pleasant through his heart, just at the thought of her. The result of this was one very frustrated Draco, standing here in a position he would give anything to get out of, and his determination wavering further.

"But we are wasting time," Dumbledore said before Draco could speak, with the air of someone on a tight schedule "you must get on with what you came to do, you yourself said that nothing I did would change it, and what if your back-up has been thwarted by my guard? Would it not be best to get it out of the way before they get here?"

"I'm the one in control here!" Draco snapped, trying to sound fierce though he was fighting down the urge to vomit and subtle shakes shook him, as yet again he thought of what he had to do, only this time it was worse as Dumbledore had planted her face in his mind and the thought of Ivy's disgust and hatred was more than he could bear. But he would, he had to do this, he had no choice.

Trying to turn the interrogation away from himself, and banish all thoughts of Ivy from his mind since he would never be able to do this with her in his head, he asked Dumbledore why he never tried to stop him. The headmaster replied that he had, that he had asked Snape to watch Draco and Draco almost laughed at that, telling the oblivious man that Snape was really working for the Dark Lord and that he was a fool to believe otherwise. Dumbledore insisted that Snape was on his side, though, before changing the subject and going back to asking about how things had come to pass tonight. Wanting some respect for all his hard work, despite how he was disgusted of it now, Draco went on to explain how he had put the Imperius Curse on Rosmerta so that she could give Katie the cursed necklace and so that she could tell him what was happening in the village. He said that Rosmerta had told him that she had seen Dumbledore leaving, she said that he was just going for a drink and Draco had decided to act, he had let the Death Eaters in and the Dark Mark was placed atop the tower as an incentive for Dumbledore to come back and as a prophesy of what was to come. At that point in the conversation a bang erupted from downstairs, followed by lots of shouting and Draco's head snapped towards the door, his first thoughts not worries about whether or not the Order of the Phoenix were on their way, or if his fellow Death Eaters were alright, but rather ones of concern for Ivy. Had she gotten out of the classroom, was she safe?

"They will look after her," Dumbledore said almost gently, causing Draco to spin sharply back around the face him.

"What?" he demanded harshly, his face set hard so as to remove the weakness of his concern.

"Miss Jones," Dumbledore explained and Draco's face reddened "the Order will take care of her, you needn't be worried."

"Who said I was worried?" Draco asked quickly and irritably, though he looked downwards and his gaze kept flicking back to the door. "What do I care about some Mud…" he started to mutter something that would plainly deny his feelings, hiding them from Dumbledore, but he couldn't finish it, unable to use such a word to describe her.

"I did," Dumbledore said easily to answer his first question "though you say it without words." He added and Draco looked at him, half embarrassed, half angry, but wholly something else entirely.

"You can go to her if you want," Dumbledore said meeting the reluctant Death Eater's gaze "you can leave here right now, a free man, and go to her and we need never speak of this again." Dumbledore said without a trace of a plea in his voice at all, in fact, he sounded as though he were a lenient parent about to let his child off with a warning. "You have options-"

"I haven't got any options!" Draco exclaimed whatever had been keeping most of his emotions inside him snapping then in the wake of Dumbledore waggling this impossible hope in front of him. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

Draco couldn't take it any more, he didn't want to do this, words could not describe how badly he wanted to take Dumbledore up on his offer and just turn around and pretend this had never happened, but he couldn't. He had promised the Dark Lord he would do this, and you didn't disappoint the Dark Lord, not if you valued your life. His entire family were depending on him too, so no matter how much what he had to do disgusted him, no matter how distressed he was, or how unfair this all was or how he wanted to go to Ivy, he had no choice.

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position," Dumbledore said as Draco scowled at him from behind his furious tears, he hated this, hated the position he was in and the hopelessness of it all, but in this world, Draco knew, it was kill or be killed, and even he didn't think he had it in him to kill. But he had to.

"Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now?" Dumbledore asked "Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldermort realised I suspected you." Draco winced at the mention of his masters name, even as he tried to stand a little taller and make up for his tears "I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you, but now at last we can speak plainly to each other. No harm has been done; you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived… I can help you, Draco."

"No, you can't!" Draco insisted, keeping his quivering wand trained on Dumbledore, knowing, even as he was tempted to agree, that this was just a ploy of the old wizards to save his own life. "Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. Ivy…" Draco started before he realised his mistake, and blushing furiously and frowning threateningly at the headmaster, upon whose face a satisfied smile had flashed, he reiterated. "I'VE got no choice."

"You do Draco, you always have a choice. Redeem yourself," in her eyes. Though the older wizard didn't say it, it was implied and caused Draco to give the whole thing a cautiously hopeful sideways glance "come over to the right side and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe in Azkaban … when the time comes we can protect him too … come over to the right side, Draco … you are not a killer."

But it wasn't to be, tempted though he was, mere seconds away from agreeing to this brighter future Dumbledore proposed, Draco knew it wouldn't happen, he knew the cruel harshness of life and knew that such a thing wasn't possible for him. As at that exact moment he heard many heavy footsteps charging up the stairs, Draco blinked, losing his grip on what could have been and returning to what was, his wand still trained on Dumbledore, when the first Death Eater crashed through the door. They were all impressed, all surprised and all elated to see that Draco had cornered a wandless Dumbledore, but Draco wasn't pleased in any way. He was still trembling, though he fought to hide it more now, Dumbledore's words still echoed in his ears and each look the headmaster gaze him seemed to repeat them, maybe even adding 'Ivy wouldn't want you to do this', though he might have imagined this. Wanting desperately to get away, to just walk away from this, Draco stood still as the Carrow's, Rowle and Greyback goaded Dumbledore, who turned to the blond and asked him how he could have let the vicious werewolf loose in the school. Draco said that he didn't know he was coming, which was the truth, as the very thought of Greyback within one hundred miles of this place, or more specifically Ivy, made him feel sick with dread. What had he gotten himself into?

Trembling almost painfully visibly Draco kept his narrowed gaze on Dumbledore as the other Death Eaters insulted the older wizard and demanded that Draco get on with the task at hand, but he couldn't, his wand arm wouldn't keep still and SHE wouldn't let him. Dumbledore watched Draco, his expression such that Draco almost thought that he understood how he felt, but of course he couldn't, and the idea of anyone understanding him right now irritated him. Then, a second bang and string of shouts echoed from downstairs, as someone from the Order of the Phoenix noticed that the Death Eaters had blocked the stairs. Scared though he was of being captured and tried for attempted murder, Draco was glad of this at least, because it meant she was more likely to be safe and also that he might not get the chance to commit this murder. Alarmed and fearful that there wouldn't be enough time, the other Death Eaters grew more violent and tried to hurry Draco along, some even wanted to do the task in his stead, but others insisted that Draco had to do it. The blond boy just stood there though, his expression flinching and slowly, but surely, he began to lower his wand arm. He couldn't do this, Dumbledore was right, he wasn't a killer.

However, once again this was not to be, as at the exact moment Draco lowered his wand, taking everyones attention away from the defining act, the door to the Astronomy Tower burst open again and in strode Snape. Looking between the wandless and weak Dumbledore, the edgy Death Eaters, and finally the conceding Draco, Snape stepped forwards, wordlessly. Inspiring a fear in the old wizard that Draco could not, Snape raised his wand pointedly as he stepped around Draco as Dumbledore pleaded with Snape for his life, as he never had with Draco. Turning around to follow Snape's progress Draco could only watch, in horror, as Snape shot a Killing Curse at the old headmaster, killing him instantly and blasting him over the battlements. Silence fell over those standing there as Dumbledore disappeared from sight, Draco's stomach heaved with revulsion and his eyes went wide, Snape had just murdered Dumbledore.

He didn't get the chance to think about it any more though, as Snape was already pulling him away, towards the door and down the Astronomy Tower steps, before the other jubilant Death Eaters. As Snape have led half dragged a pale and sickened Draco down the Astronomy steps, Draco was conscious enough to cringe when he saw some from the Order of the Phoenix racing towards him, scared they would capture him, however, they appeared not to know what he was or what he and Snape had just done, as they ran straight past him. Draco heard them as they met with the Death Eaters running down the steps behind them, and heard shouted spells on both sides but didn't pay much mind to them, his mind in shut down. With Snape gripping him firmly by the arm Draco stumbled onwards until they were about halfway down the steps, where they came to an abrupt stop and Draco felt his heart suddenly spring back to life and his eyes widen. It was Ivy.

She had come to a stop in the middle of the staircase, bent over with her arms around her stomach and a confused and troubled expression on her increasingly pale face, half hidden by a curtain of mahogany hair. Her soft brown eyes met his instantly, and he felt something stir inside him, lifting his dormant heart, if only of a second, then what he was and what he had done hit him again and Draco had to look away, unable to look at her beautiful, innocent face. From the corner of his eyes he watched her reaction, seeing her straighten elegantly and a slightly wounded and bewildered expression form on her face as she kept her gaze steady and questioningly on him.

"What…?" she started to say but was cut off by a sudden bang which erupted from behind them, Draco jumped and looked anxiously over his shoulder, seeing the duelling Death Eaters and Order members making their way back down the stairs. The very next instant Snape was pulling him away, dragging him past Ivy, who had a torn expression in place as she looked up the stairs towards the Order and then back at him.

Draco turned his back on her when Snape neared the foot of the stairs, knowing that she would soon find out what he had done, that was if she didn't already know because she might have had a vision about it. No, Draco decided as Snape continued to yank his arm roughly and he remembered the tender question in Ivy's expression, she didn't know, there was no way she'd look at him like that if she knew. It didn't matter though, she'd find out soon enough and there was nothing Draco could do to stop that, so there was no point hanging around really. Just hearing the Weasley girl, who he hadn't even noticed until he heard her voice, asking Ivy if she was okay, as he reached the foot of the stairs, Draco felt his despair double as he thought about how she would soon hate him. However, now wasn't the time to dwell on it and a few desperate glances over his shoulder as Snape pulled him down the corridor, filled with duellers and a few unconscious forms, revealed that Ivy and the rest of the Order were also at the bottom of the stairs by then.

From across the corridor Draco watched as Ivy leapt the last few steps and sprinted into the corridor, watching in awe as he realised, too late, what he had given up in his quest for power. Determination making her expression fierce, Ivy rounded on the Death Eaters perusing her fellows down the stairs, her wand gripped tightly in her hand and her pink lips pursed. She was wounded though, Draco noticed, thick crimson blood stained her black robes from a gash on her shoulder, glistening in the inconstant light caused by flashing spells, and there were tiny bloody speckles on her forearms. Instantly a Death Eater, Amycus Carrow, emerged from the staircase and began to duel her, causing Draco's heart to catch in his throat, the iced blood in his veins to boil, and his jaw to set. Fingers clenching around his wand Draco watched, with furious defensiveness, as Ivy and Amycus duelled, her hair flying behind her like a mahogany flag as she ducked and dived to avoid his spells, each missing her my inches. It was more than he could take, unwilling to just stand here and watch her in danger Draco snapped, promptly raising his wand just as Carrow deflected another of Ivy's spells and prepared to send his own. Draco could see his lips forming the words, Avada-.

"Immobulus!" Draco roared, his spell hitting the hated Death Eater before he even had the chance to finish his own incantation, and Draco watched, with immense satisfaction, as he suddenly went ridged and fell forwards.

Ivy backed up to avoid being his by the falling murderer and quickly looked around for her saviour, however, Draco only caught a glimpse of this as Snape, clearly irritated by Draco's interference, roughly grabbed a hold of Draco's shirt and shouted that it was time to go. Having no say in the matter, though he fought to stay, Draco was once again pulled away by Snape as all the other Death Eaters heeded his words and fled. Draco could remember how fiercely he fought against Snape, desperate to get away from him and go back to Ivy, even if that meant being captured by the Order of the Phoenix, however Snape was having none of it, and called Draco every name synonymous with idiot in the English language for his relationship with Ivy, as he had been doing all year. He told Draco that this was for the best, and that his foolish passion would pass and wasn't worth risking his life over, which only served to enrage Draco more, who was Snape to tell him this? Nothing. He was just a teacher and fellow Death Eater. So what if Snape had made his mother a promise to protect him? He couldn't keep him from doing what he wanted to. He didn't understand how Draco felt, he couldn't understand.

Draco was still struggling by the time they made it to the grounds with the other Death Eaters following them closely, that was when Snape switched tactics; he stopped scoffing at Draco's reason for wanting to go back and cruelly told him what would happen if he did. He told Draco that he would surely go to Azkaban for trying to kill Dumbledore and for being a Death Eater; he told him that no pleading on his 'girlfriend's' part would change that. And when Draco said that he didn't care Snape said coldly, as thought the thought had just occurred to him, that he actually rather doubted that Ivy would speak up in his defence anyway. Everyone knew Ivy was a spirited and opinioned girl, she held fast to her morals and Snape wondered if going back would be worth it to Draco if his 'love', Snape mocked the word, didn't want him anyway. Wasn't she the only reason he was prepared to sacrifice himself? Hearing the truth in Snape's words, a disheartened and frightened Draco fought no more, he ran of his own free will, though he hated the choice he had made, now more than ever.

They were almost to the gates; they had just passed Hagrid's Hut when loud, furious voices sounded behind them. Spells suddenly whooshed past Draco and Snape and the pair stopped, spinning around Draco spotted Ivy and Potter running towards them, rage clear upon their faces as they sprinted across the grounds. She knew, Draco thought, his stomach plummeting and suddenly feeling cold, she knew what he had done and now she hated him, Potter must have told her, he thought loathsomely.

"Run Draco!" Snape urged, though the blond boy was torn, conflicted between pleading his case to Ivy and saving his own skin.

He stood still, rooted firmly to the spot with his gaze flicking almost hopelessly between Ivy, who was still running towards him, and Potter, who he regarded with vicious contempt for telling Ivy before she needed to know. Poised to run, with his feet spread apart and facing the school gates, Draco made no move to leave, he just stood there, his feet planted firmly on the soft ground and looking back over his shoulder at Ivy as she charged towards him, her expression pinched with anger. Snape and Potter were having a confrontation a little way off, but neither Draco nor Ivy were paying much attention to them, both could only stare intently at each other until several things happened in quick succession which made Draco's mind up between fight and flight. To Draco's left and in the not too for off distance Hagrid's Hut promptly burst into flames, ignited by some of the straggling Death Eaters. Ivy jumped and instantly spun around to face the blaze, the flickering fire catching the light in her eyes and the heated breeze causing her hair to billow behind her. Torn for a moment Ivy looked, brown eyes burning, between Draco and Hagrid, as the oaf howled in rage in the background. She then seemed to make her decision and moved towards the hut only to stop suddenly, swaying on her feet she lifted her hand to her head, and Draco felt every beat of his pounding heart as he watched her sway. He was frozen in place, unsure of what to do until she promptly fell to the ground.

"Ivy!" He cried instinctively as her small frame hit the Earth and she just lay there, unmoving.

Not even needing to think about what he was doing or caring about what Snape and Potter thought, Draco started towards her in an instant, terrified. However, Ivy suddenly sat bolt upright, mere seconds after falling and Draco skidded to a halt when her gaze landed on him. By the firelight he could see furious tears shinning in her eyes, her brows were set in a firm scowl and there was accusation in her expression.

"Traitor," she hissed at him, her words cutting him more effectively than any knife could.

If she hadn't known before, Draco was sure she did now, whatever had just happened to her, which looked almost as though it should have been a vision, she now knew what he was. Desperate to make her understand and not ashamed of that desperation, Draco stepped forwards. He tried to reason with her, but Ivy wouldn't hear it, she was more furious than Draco had ever seen her before, words simply couldn't describe the powerful emotions Draco saw play across her face, predominantly rage and something he couldn't quite make out. Lost as to what to do and feeling like the world's biggest fool, Draco tried not to be too shocked when she shot a spell at him that went wide, he did his best to try and plead with her, hating the increasingly pained expression she wore, even though it was largely masked by fury, and hating himself for hurting her so. Nothing he said worked, he had overstepped the line, as he knew he had, there was no going back to how things were, she would never forgive him.

Despairing Draco recoiled as though she had slapped him when she said that he was nothing to her, though she didn't see it as she'd looked away, unable to look at him any more. Before, Draco might not have been able to understand why that had hurt him so much, why it had been so painful to hear her say that, but now that he understood his feelings for her those words were as excruciating as a punch to the stomach, and as agonising as though she had ripped his heart from his chest. But in the dark Draco couldn't see how much Ivy's own words pained her, how her hard brown eyes filled up with tears as she uttered the words that had hurt him so, even though she scowled, furious that they should upset her. She wanted to make him feel her pain, to hurt him like he had hurt her. Potter and Snape's duel shifted then, catching Ivy's attention as Potter called out for Snape to kill him like he had done Dumbledore, from where he lay knocked over on the floor. And though he hated that she did, Draco watched as Ivy turned her back on him and went to Potter's aid. He shouted out her name, unwilling to just let her walk away, for it was more than just jealousy that had him wanting her to stay. Snape was furious, Draco could see it, he was well and truly laying into Potter now and Draco doubted he would show Ivy any leniency, especially since the hold she had over Draco had done nothing but make Snape's life harder.

Jogging after her, wanting to pull her back away from Snape but too far away to do so, Draco skidded to a halt when Snape's gaze turned on Ivy, who was approaching him fast, wand raised, and he trained his own wand on her.

"Protego," Draco muttered, fierce protectiveness furrowing his brows once more but keeping his voice down, not wanting to tip anyone off to what he was doing until it was too late.

Ivy came to a sudden stop when Draco's shield shot up in front of her, separating her from Potter and Snape, the latter of which still had his wand trained on her. Jaw set Draco slowly lowered his wand, as a frustrated Ivy began to look for a way around the shield before her gaze flicked to Snape and then back over her shoulder at Draco with a disgusted look in place. Snape meanwhile locked his gaze with Draco's, knowing what the young Death Eater had done and with unknown thoughts, which seemed to cause him pain, flashing through his mind. Draco didn't back down under Ivy's hateful gaze or Snape's hard stare, he only kept his head high, defiantly holding up his shield and keeping her safe.

"Your temper will be the death of you, you ignorant little girl." Snape said coldly, returning his gaze to Potter and both Draco and Ivy bristled at his words.

"Sooner that than a cold hearted old man," she snapped back without a seconds hesitation and Draco felt his grip tighten around his wand, feeling his fury at the other Death Eater continue to mount, and knowing his words were meant for Draco as well, not just Ivy.

Ivy was still trying to get though Draco's shield, banging forcefully against the glimmering substance, when Snape directed his wand at Potter once more, who Draco noticed was lying on the floor and looking both enraged and sickly. However, Snape never got a chance to send his spell as a Hippogriff, looking suspiciously like the one that had injured Draco in third year, swooped down from nowhere and lashed out at Snape with its talons, protecting Potter. Driven back by the attacking beast, Snape stumbled away, trying to defend his self the best he could, Draco made no move to help him, too busy keeping his shield in place, even though Ivy was using the Hippogriff's distraction to run to the end of the shield. There was nothing he could do to stop her, not without being obvious or pushy, and there was very little to protect her from now, so Draco let the shield drop as she went to round it and ran towards Potter. He felt more than just a prang of envy as her hands reached out for the injured boy, going to help him, and Draco was scowling in disdain when a bloody Snape reached him, seized hold of him and began to drag the blond boy away. However, this time Draco didn't put up a fight, the look of pure contempt on her beautiful face as she looked at him was branded forever in his mind and was overpowering all other thoughts as her words echoed loudly in his ears.

'You, are nothing to me,'

So, curled up alone atop the Astronomy Tower, where there had once been a bright glimmer of hope handed to him, Draco could have easily blamed all his misery on Dumbledore. If only the cowardly old wizard hadn't made Draco believe that there was still a chance for Ivy and him, that their one last kiss wasn't all he would ever get, then he would have been able to accept that and move on. Except, he didn't think that, as he knew that simply wasn't the case, he would miss her just as desperately as he did now, no matter what had happened that day. I hadn't helped matters though. To have that hope so cruelly snatched away had stung and made everything that much harder for Draco, because now he couldn't get the thoughts of how things could have been out of his head.

She would still have been furious, of course she would, he had lied to her after all and Ivy couldn't handle betrayal. But, if he had come over to her side, and with Dumbledore backing him up, she would have eventually listened to what he had had to say. And maybe, one day, she would have forgiven him, and who knew where things might have gone from there. Draco screwed his eyes tightly shut and frowned to himself, chastising himself for almost thinking about that, that was a line he had vowed never to cross, it would surely be too painful. He would not let himself think of what might have happened. But, if Draco had accepted Dumbledore's offer and the Death Eaters had not appeared when they had, there would have been a chance of something better than this. But now that was gone, if it had ever really been there, and Draco didn't stand a chance of getting her to forgive him, and she was always on his mind.

Somewhere bellow, deep in the bowels of the castle, Draco could hear a clock chiming, absentmindedly he counted the strikes, not really having much of an interest in what the time was but knowing that he had to get back to the Slytherin dormitories soon. It was twelve o'clock, midnight, and time for him to be going. Sighing Draco scowled from where he was resting his chin on his knees and grudgingly pushed himself to his feet, his bones feeling stiff from sitting down in one place for too long but he was not really bothered about that. Burying his hands deep in his pockets Draco started to walk towards the Astronomy Tower door, the cold December wind gusting through the shelter and ruffling his fine silver blond hair and flecking it with snow. However, fingers wrapped around the frozen door handle, Draco stopped and looked over his shoulder, once again at the spot where Dumbledore died, his gaze narrowed and his jaw set, and he couldn't help but think, once again, how the elder wizard had been wrong. Despite what Dumbledore had said and offered, Draco had never had a choice in any of this, not in his recruitment into the Death Eaters, not in his missions, not in the betrayal of Ivy, and least of all in his feelings for her. All of that had been maddeningly out of his control, he had been subject to whatever being decided his fate and Draco hated feeling so helpless and powerless. But, he'd deal with that, be thankful of it even, as he had gotten her out of the deal, if only for a short while. And with that Draco turned his back on those thoughts, on the memories from the past, switching that part of his brain of for another night, as best he could, and walked away.

**Author note: Meh, I don't know, this wasn't supposed to be as long as it was and I'm not sure about the ending, but I really should have updated days ago, I've had the bulk of it done for a while now but the last section was giving me problems. My computers on the way out and overheats and shuts down every what…. fifteen minutes? Something like that, so sorry if there are errors (well more than usual) in the latter part, I did change them originally, but the computer lost that progress and I don't know if I got them all.**

**Right, a couple of quick points, first of all, the poll! Thank you to those who have voted so far, I appreciate your involvement, we have a bit of a clear winner at the moment. But that could all change! I'll be keeping the poll open until I next update I think, at which point I'll close it and post the results, so anyone who still wishes to vote on the topic which of the listed actresses would play Ivy best in the Harry Potter films, please do so now. Make sure you check the pictures I've uploaded too, because the name you don't recognise might fit your idea of Ivy the best, not to be patronising, but don't just go for the actresses you know.**

**Next point. As some of you (those of you who have me on author alert) might have noticed, I uploaded a new fic the other day! It's a one-shot about Merope, who I've always felt kind of bad for and been very interested in, and it would mean so much to me if, when you've got a minute, you checked it out and let me know what you think. Right, end of author note. Thanks for reading. :)**

**Oh and Aoi, nice guess, no one's said that yet! It could be, but I'm not about to say either way. Thank you for your review. :)**


	12. Christmas Lights

**Author note: I cannot tell you how pleased I am to be updating tonight, Christmas Eve is such a fitting time for chapter twelve, as you'll see when you read ;) Hum, I'm actually kind of happy with this chapter, it's gone alright I think and I hope it make a nice Christmas present for you all. Oh, and while the lyrics and the title might not fit perfectly with this chapter, I simply couldn't resist them, please forgive me and enjoy. X**

**This chapter is dedicated to my sister, Becky, whose birthday it is today. Love you darling x**

**Chapter twelve: Christmas Lights**

**Christmas night, another fight**  
**Tears we cried, a flood**  
**Got of all kinds of poison in, poison in my blood….**

**Those Christmas lights**  
**Light up the streets**  
**Maybe they'll bring her back to me**  
**Then all my troubles will be gone**  
**Oh Christmas lights, keep shining on**

**Coldplay – Christmas Lights**

**Ivy**

Time passed, I wasn't sure how much since the days all seemed to blur together in one long eternity. What with the dark mornings and early nights that came with the season it was even harder to distinguish, mere days might have passed but at the same time it could have been weeks since that day by the river bank. It didn't matter though, time was moving on despite how Ron had left us, the sun rose in the morning and set in the evening, we ate, we planned and we moved, the world went on. We, however, couldn't move on so easily. The weather only turned colder around us, vicious winds blew through the tent, rocking it where it stood but the atmosphere inside our camp rivalled the one outside with its frostiness. We didn't know what to do with ourselves, everyone was quiet and contemplative, rarely speaking beyond what was necessary to get by and never really smiling. Ron was a massive part of our group, though he might not have known it and had been sulky of late, and without him we just didn't seem to function properly and almost lost the will to try. Numbness overtook us all for a while, myself included, and while I was still furious at Ron for what he had said to me, I missed him regardless. We were depressed, there really was no other word for it, brought so low by the absence of our friend and the unpleasant circumstances in which he left us, we spent a lot of time miserably lost in our own thoughts.

For me this wasn't as bad as what I had been though last June, I was sure that nothing could ever be as painful and deadening as that, and while I missed my friend incredibly, I knew this was far worse for the others. Harry, who had been insulted in every possible way by is best friend, refused to speak about Ron, he moved around the camp with a determined air and a set jaw, going about our usual day to day life with more vigour than the rest of us, as though to show Ron that we were fine without him. However, I was prone to noticing how, in ungraded moments; Harry often lowered himself, tiredly, into a chair and a saddened expression would take hold of his face and I knew that he was regretting pushing Ron to leave. I was too, looking back I wished I'd acted differently, if only I had just took Ron's words on the chin and accepted that he was only saying these hurtful things because he was afraid and upset himself, then maybe he would still be here. I knew that I wouldn't have been able do that though, it wasn't in my nature to take things lying down, and the subjects Ron had brought up had been sore spots. Harry must have felt similar, I was sure, because he and Ron were so close and relied on each other so heavily that I knew there was no way Harry could not wish things had gone differently. Not that he'd admit it now, but Harry and Ron had a relationship similar to Hermione and I, one that could only be forged with someone of the same sex, of mutual understanding and support. Lately though, it seemed I'd been failing abysmally in that department.

Hermione was taking Ron's departure worse than any of us, for days afterwards she had barely spoken a word, she just sat curled up in the chair Ron usually occupied and tried to hide the fact that she was continually crying. This had hit her hard, without a shadow of a doubt, and I found myself at a loss as to how to help her. At first she only wanted to be alone, having woken up the morning after Ron left us, with puffy red eyes and dark circles which suggested she hadn't slept a wink that night, she made breakfast and started to pack away everything without so much as uttering a word. Harry and I hadn't exactly been up to conversation either, so we ate in an awkward and heavy silence before going to help her. It didn't take us very long to be ready to go, Hermione's beaded bag was soon packed and there was nothing left to do, however, we still didn't leave the riverside site until hours after we would usually have gone. Hermione packed and repacked the bag, desperately giving Ron more time to return; as once we left here our protective enchantments would mean he would never find us again. However, Ron didn't turn up, and Hermione had no choice but to abandon hope and apparate us elsewhere.

Reappearing on a windy hillside Hermione instantly dropped mine and Harry's hands, collapsed in the long grass, bag discarded, and openly wept. Feeling my heart ache at the sight of my usually strong and unshakeable friend in a fit of bleak sobs, I stood there for a moment, unsure what to do and hating that feeling of uselessness. However, when Harry began to walk in a wide circle around us, casting the protective enchantments Hermione usually did, I slowly lowered myself to the grass beside her, and with the long green strands blowing fiercely around me I reached out and uncomfortably rubbed Hermione's back, knowing this wasn't enough but not knowing what else to do. If our roles had been reversed, Hermione would have known exactly what to do to cheer me up; she was good at those kinds of things. I hadn't a clue though, I had spent the past seven years, not only growing in terms of confidence, but growing a tough outer shell as well, away from my old tormentors I had sworn that I would never suffer the way they used to make me feel again. And though there turned out to be cracks in my armour, ones just big enough for traitorous Death Eaters to wound me through, I had been coving over those since June, rendering myself emotionally restrained. I had half expected Hermione to push me away, to want to be left alone to rage and cry and scream, that's what I would have done (and did do on occasion last year) however she just sat there, serenely sobbing until Harry had finished the enchantments and put up the tent, when she fell silent and went inside, returning to her spot on Ron's chair.

But still time continued to pass without one single mention of Ron, and while I felt that maybe we did need to talk about him, for closure maybe, I also shied away from the idea, because if we acknowledged that Ron was gone, out loud, it would make the whole thing more real. And I wasn't sure our fragile state of being could cope with it. However some time later, while Harry was out scouring the dead, wintery forest we had moved to that day for food, with my Guides book in hand, Hermione and I got talking. Silence had once again fallen between the three of us, as earlier in the morning I had made the mistake of asking whose turn it was to gather wood for the fire, and as each of us said that we had done it last, or before the last person to do it, we realised that it would have been Ron's turn. No one had said anything for a long moment, each of us thinking again about how Ron wasn't coming back and feeling significantly more dejected because of that. But, determined to keep things running smoothly and never to mention Ron's name again, Harry volunteered to do it, neither of us contested, and I just stood there uneasily as Hermione sank back into Ron's old chair and curled up under his blanket, a spot she didn't leave for the rest of the day.

Feeling like the world's worst friend I just left her to it, no words of comfort springing to mind and no idea what to do to help her, it wasn't that I didn't want to, just that I had never been very good at comforting people. The day carried on like that, with all of us saying very little to each other, this was irritating as conversation had been picking up again before I had unwittingly dropped the Ron bombshell. Or at least the silence continued until Harry went out to look for food.

Filling the kettle with fresh water, more for something to do than for actual thirst, I decided to make another attempt at consoling Hermione and offered her a cup of tea, she muttered her agreement and shifted a little in her armchair. Pleased that maybe I was doing something right by her I set the kettle over the fire to boil and sat down in the faded, tasselled armchair I favoured to wait for it. Nothing was said for a moment, and to be honest I wasn't expecting anything to be, however, moving about under Ron's blanket so that she was sitting properly in the chair Hermione looked at me, an odd, strained expression in place.

"He's really gone, isn't he?" she asked in a tiny, croaky voice, as she had barely said two words all day.

Not expecting this I suddenly felt awkward, not sure what to say to her, I could lie and tell her that he would be back, that he wouldn't really leave us, but I thought that giving her false hope would be more cruel than kind, no matter how it might cheer her up in this instant. So, I opted for the truth.

"I don't know," I told her, somewhat sadly, though I corrected my voice the next time I spoke, thinking she probably didn't need that tone.

Swallowing deeply Hermione nodded and blinked away her tears, which were falling thick and fast now and causing a lump to swell in my throat.

"Yeah," she said, her voice thicker due to the war she was waging against her tear ducts "I…I didn't think you would," she said taking a pause for breath, because the effort of trying to stop herself from crying made it difficult to talk.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," I said earnestly, fighting back tears of my own and hating to see her like this, hating to think that if I'd have just put up with what Ron was saying she might not be going through this. I'd been where she was now, coming to grips with someone you trusted walking out on you, and though it wasn't exactly the same, I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

"Its…" she started to say but stopped with an insincere laugh at how much she was crying, as she dabbed at her eyes with the bedcovers "it's not your fault…he…" she said straining over even that term "he was being stupid…" she took in a rattling breath "…shouldn't have said those things to you…and Harry," she said quivering now with the force of her distress and, still managing to keep up my mask and stop the tears from falling, I quickly reached out and grasped her hand tightly, feeling terrible. "But I… I still m…miss him. You know?"

"I know," I said gently, though I wasn't aware of the implications of what I said, and Hermione nodded again, wiping her tears away with her free hand even as more continued to fall.

"Ivy?" she asked after a moment's pause and a serious look at me, as though she were considering her words. "Is this how you felt?" she asked and with a confused look from me, though her words were starting to dawn on me horribly, she added "when M…Draco left?"

I froze, flinching into stillness exactly where I sat, leaning forwards in my chair, holding on to Hermione's hand. I felt my eyes widen and Hermione seemed to understand that she had said the wrong thing, as her expression became even more distressed as I started to pull away, however, at that moment the kettle boiled and I sprang to my feet. Turning my back on Hermione as my heart gave an almighty throb, twisting agonisingly in my chest, I did my best to subdue it and ignore the tears now forming mechanically in my eyes. Unfeeling, but for the pain in my heart, I crossed the room towards the fire, the scream of the boiled kettle ringing in my ears like my own internal cries, and though I shut my eyes to stop the tears and scowled deeply at how sensitive I was being, I showed no sign of hurt for Hermione to see. My friend was suffering enough, she didn't need to know how sore that spot still was for me, but evidently she did.

"I'm sorry, Ivy," she said honestly, no longer sounding so forlorn but as though she could have kicked herself, and while I was glad she was having her mind taken off her own upset, I would have preferred something else to serve as a distraction. "I know its not the same," she said as I reached the fire and pulled the wailing kettle out of it, pouring scolding water into the pre-prepared mugs "What Malfoy did…" she started but I cut across her.

"…has been and gone," I said clearly from the kitchen counter I stood beside as poured milk into our tea (which was a rare and recent acquirement, of which there was now only one serving left and that was for Harry), tucked a strand of my now long brown hair behind my ear, snatched up the mugs and turned back to face her.

"It's in the past and it's going to stop there," I said with a false smile as I quickly crossed the room and gave a cautious and apologetic Hermione her drink, though she watched me with worry. "Well," I allowed myself to add darkly as I settled once again in my chair "it is until I see him again anyway."

Hermione looked at me in alarm, my words having concerned her she watched me for a little while longer, as though expecting me to suddenly apparate away to Malfoy Manor, as though this revenge was a thought that had only just occurred to me, when in actual fact I had been thinking about it ever since June. There was no way Malfoy was getting away with betraying me like that, all this pain and suffering I had been through these past months because of him, I wanted retribution and I would have it, one of these days I'd get my chance to make the traitorous Death Eater pay, and I would take it.

Hermione and I lapsed back into silence then, neither of us feeling like talking now, she didn't watch me for much longer either, her mind drifted once again to her own sorrow and once more it consumed her. I couldn't blame her of course, since I was exactly the same, wrapped up in the hurt that boy had caused me, I took great pleasure in planning my revenge and great pain in thinking of him at all, but I put up with that. I'd been doing my best of late not to think about him though, not even to construct a fantasy duel between him and me, as Ron's words still echoed loudly in my ears.

'…You're always off somewhere, brooding over Malfoy…'

Even now I bristled at the words, taking great offense at them and disagreeing with them fiercely. I didn't 'brood' over Malfoy, the very idea was laughable, or it would be if it didn't inspire such rage in me, I was over him, I just wanted my revenge. However while the locket seemed to have picked up on my past feelings for him and tortures me with them, it was nothing to do with me, I didn't think about him willingly and I only went off on my own to try and lessen the effects of the locket, to try and clear all thoughts of him from my mind. As Ron would have known if he'd asked me or had even the slightest idea of what was going on in my head. But honestly, I had thought as much was obvious, how could he even imagine that I still felt fondly of Malfoy after all he had done to me? I asked myself nonplussed, nobody in their right mind would still care for someone then and I certainly didn't! Ron's perspective must have been affected by the locket; I decided firmly, it always had bothered him the most.

So, in an attempt to keep Ron's disturbing words from echoing in my head eternally, I thought of Malfoy as little as possible, which I had been trying – no not trying, DOING - since June anyway. Unfortunately my success was limited, but I was still determined to keep my thoughts away from him, and doing better than some people might have thought. I had barely thought of him at all of late and was gradually getting him out of my system, which was great, since we had bigger things to be getting on with.

Figuring out the location of Gryffindor's sword was at the top of our to-do list now, and it was paramount because without it we couldn't hope to take another step. What good would it be if, by some miracle, we managed to find all of the Horcruxes, but we had no way of destroying them? We had to find the sword; since it was impregnated with Basilisk Venom it was the only thing we could think of that would be powerful enough to destroy a Horcrux. However, working out where Dumbledore might have left it was proving to be impossible, not one of us could think of a single sensible place where Dumbledore might have hidden it for us, Harry, Hermione and I racked our brains but we couldn't remember anything in what Dumbledore had said to us which implied where he might have left it. It was maddening, every day after we moved camp and set everything up, the three of us would gather round the kitchen table and think long and hard about where it could be, until our minds turned to mush with effort and shut down. We'd made a few suggestions, such as, somewhere in Hogsmeade, somewhere in Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement, those sorts of places, but never anywhere we thought very likely, and never anywhere we could actually go. So, spirits brought even lower and minds non-functioning, we'd go out, round something up for dinner, eat in a contemplative silence, as each of us considered our own troubles, and go to bed without further ado. Just the thought of our daily routine was depressing now, and in camp the morale had dropped considerably, even more so than when Ron was still here bringing it down, and largely because he was no longer here to do that.

However, despite the fact we were going nowhere fast, we spent our days in fruitless thought and were desperate for just one lead, we all held back against something, and not just our own individual issues either. There was one thing, one place, that we were all considering, though we each didn't know the others were thinking about it too, every time we sat down to try and come up with what we would do next, I found myself itching to make my suggestion, seeing nothing else for it. However, I could never bring myself to actually mention it; the potential dangers were too great. But there was only so long we could all hold back, one night as we all sat in our armchairs, in an unusually good mood since Harry had suggested we take a break from wearing the Horcrux for one evening, Hermione was flicking through the Tales of Beadle the Bard, Harry was watching the dots move on the Marauders Map and I was fiddling with my necklace, my mind absentmindedly imagining flashing blue eyes and pale blond hair.

However, as I surfaced from this imagining, hardly even aware that I had been having it, lulled into such an odd state of comfort given how nicely the warmth of the fire contrasted with the cold, wintery scene that stretched out beyond the tent flaps, and the wind which gusted around us, I thought once more of the only place left for us to go, of the only place that I could think of where Dumbledore might have left the sword. Godric's Hollow, surely Dumbledore would have expected Harry to go there, surely it made sense for us to search there for the sword, just in case. Bringing myself round from my pleasant daze I looked over at the others, who were busily bent over parchment the both of them, and was about to make my proposition when Harry suddenly spoke.

Talking quickly, as though to do so would stop us objecting, Harry said that he thought we should go to Godric's Hollow, that we might as well since we had nothing else to do, and he really wanted to see the place he was born. Smiling, I let out what had recently become a rare laugh and said that I'd been about suggest we go there too, since it was the only place we hadn't searched. Harry asked what I meant and Hermione told him that she alsosupposed that we had better go there and explained to him what I meant, as she was also sure Dumbledore would have expected Harry to go there. Hermione also added that she thought Godric's Hollow was, after all, a logical place to hide the sword anyway. Neither Harry nor I knew what she meant by that, and rolling her eyes in a typically Hermione way which I was glad to see again, she told us that Godric's Hollow was were Godric Gryffindor had lived, so of course there was a very good chance Dumbledore had hidden the sword of Gryffindor there. She also chastised us for not reading Hogwarts: A History, which again was a welcome and missed Hermione-ism.

So, that was how we ended up standing as we were, huddled together under the invisibility cloak and disguised as unwitting Muggles through the medium of Polyjuice potion, at the top of the main road into the historic village. It was a few days after when we had originally decided to go to Godric's Hollow, as Hermione insisted on carefully planning our visit to the village because she was convinced that Voldermort would expect Harry to come here and have a trap in place. And I agreed whole heartedly with her on that, as Voldermort was proving pretty apt at guessing Harry's next move. Furthermore I was getting a really dodgy feeling about the whole thing, even though I was somewhat excited to be going to visit the supposedly charming village and was sure that it was the only step forwards we could make, but I knew well enough by now that my bad feelings usually meant trouble.

Disguised as raven haired middle-aged woman, with deep-set frown lines and thin lips, I felt inexplicably anxious as I looked around from under the cloak, barely conscious of Hermione exclaiming that she hadn't thought about how the snow would affect things, and how she would have to make sure to clear it behind us so no one saw our footprints. Everything felt different here, it might have been the change of surroundings or the slightly mystical air of the old-fashioned village playing with my mind, but I felt a distinct change in the winds. It felt as though we were on the precipice of change, the start of a new beginning that would alter everything from this point onwards, hopefully for the better. And I did feel hopeful as I stood there, my head held high as the sharp winter wind blew around us, I felt hopeful that this miserable year would soon pass and that the next would be better, but I still felt an undercurrent of worry. There was a shadow of forewarning nagging at me that surely I would be a fool to ignore, a frightening sense that something big was about to happen before we left here, something more than the change I spoke of before.

However, in a true Ivy fashion, I pushed that notion aside, shaking my head slightly and returning to the present as Harry, masquerading as an older man with grey hair, suggested we shed the Invisibility Cloak, since no one would recognise us under our disguises. Hermione agreed, a little reluctantly, and together the three of us set off down the main road into the village.

Godric's Hollow was a beautiful, picturesque sort of village, the kind of place that would probably win contests like Briton in Bloom and Briton's Best Village. It was a fairly small, seemingly cosy community, made up of streets of quaint Georgian cottages, each one dusted with a layer of snow which made them look slightly like gingerbread houses. Tall, cast iron lamp posts lined the streets, and flickering orange bulbs gave the pleasant effect of a lit candle in the black lanterns atop the posts. It was nice, calming and uplifting even, just walking down these old fashioned streets with Harry and Hermione, and although Godric's Hollow really wasn't a place for the younger generations, as it was quiet and there didn't seem to be much by way of entertainment, I could certainly see myself settling down here when I was older, maybe when I had a family of my own. Presuming we get to that point, a pessimistic voice in my head said, reminding me how dangerous my life was right now and that I needed to be alert. Before I could even start to think about my future family I needed to stay alive first, there might be Death Eaters hidden in the shadows and I needed to look out for them. So, returning to the stern, almost military façade I was favouring at the moment, I kept my eyes pleaded for any sign of an advancing Death Eater or a jet of light, but saw nothing, either because of disguises were working or there weren't any Death Eaters here, either way, I did as Mad-Eye would have advised, I kept constant vigilance.

"You two," Hermione said as we entered the village square "I think it's Christmas Eve."

"Is it?" Harry asked, somewhat absentmindedly, as though the news only mildly surprised him.

"I'm sure it is." Hermione said looking around at the big Christmas tree in the middle of the square, decked out in coloured lights, baubles and a giant star atop.

Another odd sensation crept over me then, an uncomfortable one, as unpleasant as the feeling of a spider walking across your skin, or an ice cube sliding down your back, a slow realisation of a horrible kind. It's almost a year, I thought, almost a year since all of this began and my life shifted for the worse. In twenty-four hours or so, exactly one year ago, HE, turned up at my house, bound by his promise to his master to get me on side, reignited our bizarre and stupid friendship and all of this started. One year, oh God, I couldn't decide if it felt as though it ought to have been more than a year an ago or less, but one thing was for sure that knowledge was unwelcome and infuriating. I found myself balling my hands into fists and biting my chapped lips. If I had a time machine, I thought with menace, I'd go back to that day without a moment's hesitation and throw him from my house! Twatting, lying traitor that he is, abusing my trust and joining them!

However, I didn't say any of this out loud, instead I said, in the calmest voice that I could manage,

"Yeah, I think you're right, the lights are on in the church up there."

Following my gaze Hermione looked over at the old, grey stone church, a somewhat troubled expression in place. Struggling to drop my own issues, but managing to in the end, I got rid of enough indignant rage to wonder what was bothering her, and then I found out.

"They… they'll be in there, wont they? Your mum and dad, Harry? I can see a graveyard behind it." She said and Harry slowed his walking, I watched as he gulped deeply and looked up at the church with wide, anxious eyes, though I knew Harry well enough to know how excited he was to finally see the place where he parents had lived and were buried. Hermione obviously knew this as well as she took his hand in hers and began to pull him forwards, taking Harry somewhat by surprise.

Smiling in spite of myself, feeling a strong surge of love for my dear friends, I followed after them across the snow capped, cobbled square, a little surprised when Hermione stopped short and told Harry to look at something. Glancing in the direction she was pointing, I saw only a weather worn, war memorial, complete with a fresh poppy wreath, and Harry and I both looked at Hermione in confusion until Hermione pulled him another step forwards and shock visibly shot through him. Hurrying forwards so that I was stood in line with them I couldn't help the gasp that rushed from my lips. The memorial had changed, as we passed it the stone monument that listed the names of the men who died in the war was replaced by a statue of three people. Standing there now was a man in glasses with messy hair, a young woman with a warm smile with a peaceful baby in her arms, James, Lily and Harry Potter; it was a memorial to them. Looking at Harry I watched as he stepped towards the statue, obviously stunned by it all and drinking in the faces of his parents, Hermione and I stayed back while he did this, letting him come to terms with this surreal moment. He stared up at them for a while, before saying 'c'mon' and heading towards the graveyard.

Hermione and I followed him without hesitation, wrapping my arms around myself against the cold I felt anxious again for no obvious reason, so, choking it up to the danger of being out in public like this, even though we were camouflaged as Muggles, I kept on looking from left to right and peering over my shoulder, just in case. As we neared the Church a soft melodic wave of singing reached us, muffled somewhat by the thick wooden door and stone of the church, but distinctive nevertheless. Hermione pushed open the kissing gate as soundlessly as she could, and together the three of us hurried through it before heading out into the deep, undisturbed snow of the graveyard. We kept together as we ploughed through the snow, our shoes and the bottom of our trousers soaking, with the light streaming through the stained glass windows, painting the glittering snow bright reds and greens where it fell, guiding our way. Navigating between headstones of all shapes and sizes, spread out evenly across the smooth ground, we scanned the names and occasionally remarked at one of interest as we searched for Harry's parents. It was sobering in the graveyard, it was always somewhat chilling to be around the dead, a sharp reminder of how fragile life was and that no one, not even Voldermort, could truly escape this fate. But it was also peaceful and oddly calming, it brought on a stillness inside me that almost quelled my uneasiness, which was now reaching more worrying levels, but still I didn't tell the others, not wanting to concern Hermione or ruin Harry's visit.

We found Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore's graves as we strode about the churchyard, Dumbledore's mother and sister respectively, which proved that Rita Skeeter and Muriel had been right when they said the Dumbledore's had lived in Godric's Hollow at least. Whether or not Ariana was a Squib and her mother kept her hidden until Dumbledore caused her death, remained to be seen. Seeing these graves seemed to bother Harry, I'd heard enough of what he had been saying recently to know that Dumbledore keeping all these secrets from Harry upset and angered him, and guessed he was feeling the same way now as he moved on quickly. We then found a grave Hermione had thought said Potter but instead belonged to a man named 'Ignotus', and closer inspection revealed, interestingly, that it bore the mark from Hermione's book, the strange triangular eye with a line down the middle. Harry didn't find this particularly fascinating though, and I could understand why, so I didn't make any attempt to stop him as he went to look for his parents graves, in fact I told him I'd search in a different direction and wondered off, trying but failing in trying to understand how Harry must be feeling, looking for the remains of his parents for the first time. However it was Hermione that found them, she called us over and as Harry was overcome by emotions she took his hand and, with similar awkwardness to when I was trying to comfort her, I linked my arm with Harry's and rubbed it with my free hand as Hermione conjured a wreath of Christmas roses. After Harry set the wreath down carefully for his parents, he said he wanted to go, so without further questioning, Hermione and I left the graveyard with him still holding onto him in support.

We were almost at the gate when Hermione pulled us to a halt.

"Stop," she said urgently "there's someone there. Someone's watching us. I can tell. There, over by the bushes."

"Are you sure?" I heard Harry ask, however, I heard no more of the conversation as an abrupt dizziness took me and my head started to spin, however this didn't last long and soon an odd breeze that had nothing to do with the winter weather blew across the front of my brain and the Christmas scene slipped from view.

When the darkness cleared my vision came in a familiar flash, one quick jolt of colour that flashed across my eyelids and shocked my senses. Lunging towards me, in a deadly strike, was a giant snake, fangs bared, tongue flicking and its hiss sounding. But it was over in a second, just like it always was, and the next thing I knew I was shocked back into the present. When my eyes flew open the very first thing I saw was Harry and Hermione, disorientated for a moment and still hearing a horrifying hiss echoing in my ears, I had to wait a moment for the dizziness to pass before I could think straight. I blinked before focusing in on Harry's concerned face, showing the familiar expression of my friend even if he didn't look like himself at the moment, and Hermione's worried face, which peered at me anxiously from behind old women's eyes.

"Ivy?" Harry asked and I became aware of my wobbly legs, unable to support my own weight, and the fact that I was only still upright because Harry and Hermione had grabbed me in time. Feeling embarrassed by this I frowned and felt myself blush, hating that my visions effected me like this and made me a liability, which was something I could never stand to be.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"'M fine," I said regaining the use of my legs and supporting myself again, though I rubbed my forehead to try and chase away some of the fogginess.

"What did you see?" Harry asked and I pushed back my temporarily black hair off my face.

"The snake again," I said confused but mildly irritated voice, as this vision was starting to get both frightening and ridiculous, I never got any more than that five seconds flash of the snake, I still didn't know what the outcome of that encounter would be. But it didn't look good.

My friends looked worried, and rightfully so I suppose, since we had decided this snake was probably Nagimi and that my vision was showing the instance when we would try to kill her, since Harry said Dumbledore thought she was a Horcrux. However, the snake wasn't an immediate threat, whatever Hermione had seen was, so I tried to reassure them.

"But that doesn't matter right now; we'll decide what this all means later, what were you saying Hermione?" I asked pulling my head from my hands and looking at them both, though they still looked concerned.

Hermione said again that she'd seen something move, Harry told her it was probably an animal of some kind, as if it was a Death Eater we would be dead by now, and so we all headed out of the graveyard and off in search of Bathilda Bagshot's house. We had reasoned earlier that it was one possible place Dumbledore would have left the sword, or instructions on where to find the sword, as she was his friend and a famous magical historian, so it made sense. However, as we crossed the square and passed the pub, where the locals had headed to after the church to have a merry singsong of carols a bit more modern than 'Silent Night', it was not Bathilda's house we came across first. Skidding on some black ice as Harry pulled Hermione and I across the street, obviously having seen something, I re-caught my balance and saw what had caught his attention.

It was the house, the one where Harry and his parents had lived, made visible now as the Fidelius Charm had died with the older inhabitants. Even though most of the building was still standing, it didn't look a thing like the other cottages in the village, the wall on the right side of the house, which must have been Harry's room, had been blown apart when Voldermort's spell rebounded, thick ivy covered the rest of the outer walls, weeds grew tall and unchecked in the garden, and the paint was peeling on the front door. It might not have been pretty, but even I could see the significance of it, there was a special sanctity about the place, left exactly the same as it was on the day when Harry and his parents were attacked. It reminded me of a village in France my dad told me about, where the whole village was left untouched as a memorial to the men, women and children who died when German soldiers marched in and murdered them all. This was the same, a monument to the suffering, not only of Harry and his family, but all Voldermort's victims, and a testament to the love of those left behind. As Harry touched the gate a wooden sign sprang up from nowhere, taking us all by surprise and instantly grabbing our interest, it proclaimed that the house had been left in its ruined state in honour of the Potters. The lines on the sign were moving and very respectful, even I, who rarely cried, was tearing up, especially when I spotted all the personal comments written on the sign, graffiti left by countless wizards who came here to pay their respects to this family and to Harry in his mission now.

"They shouldn't have written on the sign!" Hermione said and I laughed, tears in my eyes and beaming at the little plaque.

"It's brilliant. I'm glad they did." Harry said and I nodded.

"Me too, it shows how much they care," I said looking away from the sign and at Hermione "That they're behind-" I cut off, stopping as I spotted something in the dark behind Hermione.

"What's wrong?" she asked, seeing my confused and slightly shocked expression, and I felt rather than saw Harry look up in alarm.

"I…" I said trying to speak but unable to for pure surprise and a touch of worry "I think that's the owl," I said motioning over Hermione's shoulder at a fence post, upon which perched a speckled Boreal Owl, or at least, it looked like one from here.

"What owl?" Harry asked, looking bewildered as he straightened up from looking at the sign and peered into the darkness over Hermione's shoulder, looking right at the owl which was still sitting there, and appeared the be holding something in its beak.

"The one from the wedding," I answered, selecting my words carefully despite my shocked state and making sure I didn't say Ron's name "don't you remember? Someone sent me an owl right before the Death Eaters arrived, it was a warning! What if this is the same?" I asked, getting increasingly worried as I remembered what had happened the last time I had seen this owl, and I was sure it was the same one, though; apparently I was the only one of us who thought this.

"Ivy," Hermione said doubtfully as she looked over her shoulder "I don't think it's the same one. There must be hundreds of owls like that around; it's highly unlikely that they're one and the same."

"No," I said adamantly as she turned back around to look at me and I met her gaze, even though I still kept the owl in my line of sight "I'm sure it's the same," I said realising as I spoke that my words were the truth, that I was getting a strange sensation which told me this was the owl who had given me that last letter.

Hermione however, was still not convinced and she pulled a face that told me as much, however I didn't mind, I was too interested in getting to the owl, I just knew that it was that same Boreal Owl and that it was carrying a letter for me, I could feel it. So, not really waiting for her consent, I told Hermione I was going to go and check it out anyway, she didn't seem to approve but did nothing to stop me, as though she was thinking that I could just prove myself wrong. Harry meanwhile, was once again captivated by the sign in front of his house, reading a message he hadn't noticed before, so he didn't mind either. Not wasting another second I walked away from the others just as Hermione rejoined Harry by the plaque, my mind totally overtaken with the desire to get to the bird, and feeling, so strongly that it made me feel physically sick, that this was vitally important and conscious of my anxiety increasing again. What could it be this time? I wondered as I walked down the street, snow crunching distinctly under my heels with every quick step I took, my eyes fixed on the regal looking owl. The last time it had been a warning of a Death Eater attack; could it be the same thing this time? I seriously hoped not, not one of us was up to a duel, not really, and they would be sure to overpower us.

Hesitant, but at the same time oddly eager to receive the letter, which was something so familiar that reminded me of my old life, I reached the owl and came to a stop before it, reluctant to take the parchment it did, in fact, hold in its beak. Was Hermione right? Was I being ridiculous? It was possible, I knew that, but I felt such a pull to this bird, just like I had the last time, and the small but proud Boreal looked exactly like the other one had, as far as I could remember. Waiting a moment I lifted my hand as though to take the letter, I paused and gripped my necklace before looking around to see if anyone was coming to get the letter, Godric's Hollow was a half magical dwelling after all, it could easily be for someone else. But no one came and the bird was sitting here staring at me with its round wise eyes and not flying off to someone's house, so, giving in, I finally reached out and took the letter from its beak. The owl released it easily, giving out a majestic hoot as my gaze flicked back to it before my eyes were drawn to the letter in my hands.

'Ivy Jones', the oddly familiar and elegant, but rushed and slightly messy, script read on the envelope, it was definably for me then, I thought, feeling my heart beat quicken as I looked down at the letter. No one wrote to me any more, they couldn't, as most owls wouldn't find me since we moved so much and my other friends new better than to try, lest it lead Death Eaters to us, however, and this owl had somehow found me. Anxious with both fear and excitement, I quickly hooked my finger under the seal at the back and opened the letter, just as the owl, its head still held high, shuffled closer to me, seeking warmth. Noticing this I almost smiled, however, by that point I was pulling the letter from the envelope and unfolding it, with shaking hands I looked down at the creased parchment and feeling my heart plummet in horror, my smile dying on my lips. Just as before, the letter contained just one hastily scribbled word.

"Snake"

I didn't need to even think about it, everything clicked into place instantly. The snake, the one from my vision, the one that I had been seeing and fearing for months now, the letter writer was warning me about it just like they had with the Death Eaters. That meant it was here, I thought in panic as I looked up from the letter, my heart pounding against my chest in distress, the last letter had arrived just before the Death Eaters had, so what if this was the same? Not about to take that risk, I quickly sprang into action.

Turning away from the owl, which still watched me from where it sat on the fence and hooted in irritation when I moved away from it, I span around looking for my friends, my gaze shooting down the street to Harry's old house. However, a jolt of fear shot through me as I realised they weren't there any more. What? I demanded in internal fright as I hurriedly took off back down the street, jogging and feeling sick with dread, something bad was going to happen today, I just knew it. I had to find them, to get them out of here before we went to wherever the snake was, but I couldn't see them, they had only been there a moment ago, why hadn't they told me they were going? Reaching the old Potter house, my heart still beating painfully against my chest and panic making my breathing laboured, I quickly looked around, turning my head this was and that and fretfully searching for my friends, and still I couldn't find them, not until my gaze landed on a house in the slight distance, just across the way, where the front door was wide open and a bright yellow light spilling from inside illuminated Hermione as she slipped inside after Harry. What on Earth were they doing? I asked myself in disbelief as the door was shut behind them, however, I didn't consider this too much, overcome with worry I was already running across the street, heading towards the house they had disappeared into, my mind whirling.

Where was the snake in my vision? I tried to remember but I couldn't call the image to mind immediately, I usually focused on the snake its self, the horror it inspired always filling my senses, but now that I thought about it, I could see that the snake and its soon-to-be victim, were in an unfamiliar room. It was dark and dingy, nowhere I recognised, which I supposed might be a good thing, if I could just get the others home as soon as possible. Panting but no less determined, I reached the mysterious cottage which had interested my friends so much and opened the door, not caring that I hadn't been invited in, however, the state of what awaited me inside told me that people weren't invited over here often. A rotten smell assaulted my nose as soon as I was in the now dark entrance hall; the place reeked of mould and neglect but also something that smelled suspiciously that gone off meat and decay. Blinking and resisting the urge to cover my nose, I reflexively pulled my wand from my pocket and started down the corridor, noticing as I did that Hermione and Harry's footsteps were clearly visible on the dusty carpet. Lifting my gaze I reached a door at the end of the corridor, and seeing light spilling out from underneath it I didn't hesitate in opening it.

It was the houses living room, and for the first time since charging over here and coming in, I wondered whose house it was, flickering candles illuminated the room, peeling, faded floral wallpaper covered the walls and more thick layers of dust covered the floor and furniture. There was a tattered burgundy sofa in the middle of the room, facing the fireplace, the cushions of which were worn flat, soot spilled out from the fireplace, staining the carpet and several of the many stacks of books had toppled over, never to be rightened. However, more importantly at that moment, Hermione was standing in a corner, glancing nervously at a collection of photographs.

"Hermione!" I called running across the room towards her, she turned and looked surprised.

"Ivy, how did you get in here?" she asked me when I came to a stop in front of her.

"I let myself in," I told her and Hermione looked appalled, however I rolled my eyes and said "tell me off later, we need to leave, look at this." I showed her the letter and Hermione read it, her eyes going wide and flicking the letter over to read the other side.

"Oh my gosh," she breathed in a panicked voice before asking, anxiously "but Ivy, are you sure this is real, that it isn't just a trick? Something the Death Eaters are trying?"

"I've wondered that myself but I know that it's not," I said adamantly, believing one hundred percent that this letter was safe "I know that I can trust this Hermione, but I don't have the time to try and convince you, we need to leave, where's Harry?"

"Upstairs with Ms Bagshot," she answered, still looking down at the letter apprehensively "I don't know Ivy; I still think that it's from the Death Eaters."

"Come on," I said, ignoring her and getting behind her, so that I could push her towards the stairs, as Hermione looked at me in confusion and asked me what I was doing, but went with me nonetheless, my instincts were going haywire, telling me that this wasn't good, that I needed to get Harry and go, now.

However, as we reached the foot of the stairs I stopped pondering this and Hermione stopped questioning me, as a loud bang suddenly sounded from upstairs. Hermione and I shared an alarmed look and then sprinted up the winding staircase without further ado, Hermione in the lead. Reaching the landing we crashed into the bedroom, where the sounds of a struggle were coming from, just in time to see Harry, lying helpless on the floor trying to push away a giant snake as it coiled its self around him. There was no sign of Bathilda. I froze and Hermione gasped, this was the same as my vision, I realised, this was the snake, Nagimi. Hermione however, didn't freeze, recovering quickly she pointed her wand at the snake and cried,

"Reducto!"

And the snake was promptly thrown from a now unconscious Harry, she recovered though, and hissed angrily as she lunged at Hermione, who was too alarmed to react and could only stare.

"Impedimenta!" I shouted from the doorway, my spell hitting the snake in midair and knocking it back, but, once again it didn't stay down and Hermione and I were forced to dive this way and that, shooting spells whenever we could, to avoid its attacks.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Harry starting to come back around, as Hermione ducked behind the unmade bed and I shot a jinx which narrowly missed Nagimi and caused her to round on me. I fired another spell but this one had next to no effect on the snake, so I quickly began to back up, feeling my blood run cold in fear and my heart beat stutter as she lunged for me, I almost fell backwards in my fright, as this snake was literally the stuff of my nightmares and had been plaguing me for months, but thankfully Hermione shot a spell from behind the bed then, which Nagimi had to duck and which collided with the widow and caused it to smash audibly, letting in a whoosh of cold night air.

"Impedimenta!" I cried again paying next to no mind to the window and focusing on the snake, which could probably kill us all, however, as the spell collided with the snake and it recoiled, Harry screamed louder and more painfully than I had ever heard him scream before.

"He's coming!" he yelled in agony and horror "He's coming now!"

Hermione and I didn't need to ask who, we both knew who Harry meant, and gathering up all my courage as Hermione whimpered and shot another spell at Nagimi, I covered her back as she ran out from behind the bed, around the snake and to Harry, feeling my ever mounting fear weighing heavy on me and causing me to shake. If Voldermort got here before we left, we were all dead. That thought was so terrifying, so insanely frightening that I felt as though I might throw up as I retreated to Harry and Hermione, my wand still trained on the snake until it dropped suddenly to the floor. However, I had only the time to lower my wand a little in shock before it was up again, thrashing about madly, knocking shelves over and smashing things seemingly blindly. Except it was coming for us. This wasn't a good sign, and we all knew it.

"We need to go!" I shouted and without saying anything further Harry grabbed hold of Hermione and I and pulled us backwards, the snake was blocking the door so we had nowhere to go, trapped we retreated but Harry seemed to have a plan.

He turned us both around so that we were facing the window, jumped with us up onto the low table underneath it, crushing trinkets and artefacts beneath our feet, and then, before Hermione and I had time to even gather our thoughts, leapt out the window and seemingly to our deaths. With the snake hot on our heels we soared out into the night air, Hermione screamed in terror and my own caught in my throat, unable and unwilling to come out, staring down at the distant, snowy ground bellow us, still clutching my wand, I felt the harsh winter wind blow my long hair and quickly screwed my eyes tight shut, unable to look. This only lasted for a second though, as Hermione quickly reached out, grabbed my other hand, and holding on tightly to both Harry and I, twisted in midair and we apparated away. However, as my hair made a raven arch against the midnight sky and a gasp escaped my lips and a terrible and fearsome cry echoed in my ears, a sudden and oddly frightening thought occurred to me. I knew, for whatever reason, be it my Seeing abilities or some just intuition, I knew that what I had just done was going to cause problems. Fear, for someone different now, someone I didn't even know, filled me now and I felt guilt attack my relief at our escape, they were going to suffer for helping me now, I knew it, now they would be in danger too. Because, in all the chaos back in the house, all the running and screaming, I had dropped my letter.

**Author alert: Hope you liked that one guys, I did any way lol, but I'll tell you right now, it's the NEXT chapter, I'm looking forward to.**

**Right, next thing, the poll result, our runaway winner in the 'Who would play Ivy in the Harry Potter films' poll is …..**

**Saoirse Ronan with 7 out of 16 votes!**

**2nd place goes to Elise Gatien with 5**

**3rd place Kaya Scodelario**

**And in joint 4th is Dakota Blue Richards and Hannah Tointon with one each.**

**What do you think guys; does this reflect your views? I'd love to know what you all think. Thanks to everyone who voted and a massive, massive Merry Christmas to you all (if you celebrate it), I hope you have an amazing day! :) x**


	13. The precipice of waiting

**Author note: Here we go again.**

**Chapter thirteen: The precipice of waiting**

**Draco**

Rain drops drummed rhythmically upon his hood as he walked, keeping to the slippery stone path and avoiding muddy puddles where he could, as he simply did not need to grief from his parents about treading dirt into the Manor. Wrapping his cloak a little tighter about himself Draco Malfoy did his best to keep dry, even though the fine rain was already soaking through the thick, black fabric and the temperate wind swept up the droplets and blew them in his face, stinging like needles where they touched his skin. However, the walk wasn't a long one and Draco was prising open one side of the great wooden double door, which didn't even creak on its ancient, patterned hinges, and stepping into the fusty warmth of the small stone building.

The family owlery was no where near the size of the large tower-like structure at Hogwarts, but it was by no means any less elegant, or at least it was as elegant as an owlery could ever be. The petite shed was made of large, grey stone blocks on the outside and had a sloping slate roof, in addition to the big oak doors, which took up the entire length of one wall. Inside the walls were lined with wooden panels and wooden beams of differing heights stretched across the room for the owls to rest on, the straw strewn floor was surprisingly clean and obviously freshly lain, though his father never permitted even such an inane room as this to be anything but perfect. The elderly man who kept the Owlery and looked after the birds was out, Draco had made sure of this before coming down here, but he didn't know how long he had before the man completed his errand and returned, so he made his move.

Shutting the thick door behind him Draco turned back into the room, staring upwards at a few watching birds as he lowered his hood, revealing a neatly cropped wave of platinum blond hair, which was slightly tousled now because of the hood, but which he made no move to straighten. Draco's ice blue gaze found the only source of light in the room, and the only other exit but the door, a window, high up in the rafters, just the right size for the owls to slip in and out through, and the only place that gave evidence of the spring shower going on beyond the room. Rain lashed through the window and the howl of the wind could be heard through it, the wise owls avoided that area. Pausing for a moment, Draco massaged his aching temples slowly, let out a tired groan and headed into further into the room in search of peace.

Draco had no real love for owls, he never had, he saw them as only a usefully communication method, as did most Wizards of his stature. So he hadn't come down here to pay some kind of usual visit to his Eagle Owl, Scalpo, no, Draco was down in the Owlery because it was a warm and dry place that wasn't the Manor. It was the Easter Holidays now and Draco was starting to wish he had consented to stay at the school, even if that would have meant putting up with his friends' never ending praise for his shameful work, the constant hate that radiated from most students and teachers, and, most importantly, the ever present memory of HER. At this point he felt sure that he could survive a hundred years of all that easier than spend another week and a half with his family, who either just sat there in maddening pensive silences or talked endlessly of the Dark Lord's progress, how amazing the Dark Lord was, or how lucky we were and how they only wished Draco could help him more. When they did this they spoke in loud and nervous voices, as though, despite how the Dark Lord wasn't at the Manor at the moment, he could hear everything they said and would act on it. Life at the Malfoy Manor was suffocating for Draco now, just as it had been during the Christmas and Summer Holidays, he could find no real relief, no matter where he went. He couldn't stand it here any more and he wanted out, however at the same time he stayed, whether it was just loyalty to his increasingly desperate parents or something else, Draco simply couldn't leave, for he had no where to go and he had a service to provide.

Scowling Draco was sure that he felt his Dark Mark twinge, or he would have been sure had he not been imagining that it was for months now; it was embarrassing, going to Snape or his father every time his mark gave a little throb; only for them to say he was overreacting and that nothing was happening. Draco stopped going to them now, hating the way they looked down at him as they spoke, how even though he was of equal rank to both of them now, a Death Eater too, they still spoke to him like a child. However, seeking a reprieve from all this Draco pushed these thoughts from his head and absentmindedly stroked Scalpo's feathery chest, however, the haughty Eagle Owl, who had been sleeping, only opened an eye and squawked irritably, snapping it's beak at Draco in an obvious display of annoyance. Glaring at the bird, which had never been very sociable, Draco withdrew his hand and turned his back on Scalpo, knowing the owl had never really been the affectionate type and while that had always suited Draco, it wasn't what he sought now.

Crossing the Owlery, he passed the few owls that lived here. His father's Great Horned Owl, his mothers Screech Owl and Bellatrix's intimidating Great Grey Owl, all of which were sleeping on their specific perches, like Draco's. He passed the spares, sleeping or watching up in the rafters, until he reached the final designated perch, upon which sat a grey and brown speckled Boreal Owl, its big yellow eyes were wide open and it hooted in greeting as Draco approached. This unnamed owl was Draco's spare, given to him a year or two back to supplement his birthday presents and he had never really cared much for it until this year, where it had been infinitely useful to Draco. Excitedly bobbing about the owl hooted merrily when Draco reached out to stroke its breast with his forefinger and Draco smiled a little to himself, the owl's loyalty and enthusiasm always pleased and surprised him.

"No letters today," Draco told the owl and instantly his mind shot back to the last time this owl had been used, to another day of fear and worry for him, however, his mission had been successful, he had achieved what he wanted to achieve so there was no real reason to be anxious. But still, Draco felt troubled.

Pulling a bag of owl treats from his robes pocket Draco felt, and repressed, the urge to sigh, but couldn't stop the discontented frown from slipping onto his face, this is what our relationship has been reduced to, he thought dejectedly, one-sided, anonymous correspondences, and its all my fault. Feeding the Boreal one of the treats meant for Scalpo Draco tried not to fall into one of his stupors, which was easier said than done, as there were not words to describe Draco's regret and the misery he felt over it, but he pressed on, knowing he was no good to anyone if he sank into despair. Not that it made resisting any easier of course, but it gave him something to hold onto and a reason to try. Clearing his throat Draco finally managed to detach himself from these thoughts and as soon as another one popped into his head, he latched onto it with unusual vigour.

He needed to name the owl, he decided, if it was going to be used as frequently as he feared then he was going to need something to call it by. He had never thought much of naming it before now, but the passing fancy was suddenly very important to him and he took up the task readily, wracking his brain for a suitable name. Standing there for a moment, feeding the bird treats and absentmindedly stoking him as he thought, Draco struggled to come up with a good name; he wanted something symbolic, something with a reason behind it. And then it struck him, so suddenly that it surprised him but as soon as he thought about it he realised the name was perfect. Apollo, he thought looking down at the proud bird, with his glowing golden eyes, like little suns, and speckled feathers, oddly it seemed to fit him. However, as Draco thought about why this name was symbolic and what it meant to him, he quickly bristled and discarded it. No, Apollo wasn't right, he told himself with a slight frown and a prang of the heart, the God of Sun, truth, prophecy and healing (amongst other things), hit a little too close to home for Draco, no matter how much it suited.

**Ivy**

I had been right that day; change was coming, and fast. We had gone over the edge we were balancing on, we were on the other side and it was only a matter of time before we hit the bottom. Nothing was the same after Christmas Eve and still I felt that there was more to come yet, that the biggest shock wave had yet to hit, and that was what worried me. After all the progress of the past few months since Christmas Eve, all we'd learned, all the emotion we'd suffered, there was still more to come. I hadn't had my turn yet, in these five months, the quickest of the year so far, so much had happened but never really to me, so I knew my change was still coming. All the others had had to deal with great emotional upheaval these past months, but I seemed to have been spared, only I knew that I wasn't to be, there was something building rapidly in my chest now, a sense of dreadful anticipation of what was to come, it was as though my Inner Eye was fearing the worst, as though it knew what was to come, but it didn't see fit to tell me about it.

After we fled Godric's Hollow, Hermione and I had been picking ourselves up off the forest floor we'd apparated to, her shaking from head to toe, and me fighting to reign in my fear at how close we had been to death, as Voldermort had been mere seconds behind us. However, we couldn't sit there and glad of our lucky escape, as Harry was having some kind of fit, lost in Voldermort's mind as his Occlumency failed him again. He lay thrashing in the snow, as pale white as the powder he was unknowingly matting into his now jet black hair, the effects of the Polyjuice Potion wearing off now. Hermione and I didn't even get a chance to share a look; we were both on our feet in an instant and by his side, as he writhed and muttered, sweat breaking out on his forehead and distress written across his face. We couldn't rouse him, nothing we did woke him from this trance, so, as carefully and as quickly as we could, Hermione and I set up camp and lay Harry down in his bed, hoping he would snap out of it soon.

This went on for hours, and Hermione and I could only watch, helpless and (in my case) furious to see our friend suffering like this, we sat waiting long into the night and it was almost morning by the time he came round. Sweat drenched and trembling from being trapped in Voldermort's mind, Harry looked at us both, messy haired, tried and anxious, with dark circles undoubtedly evident underneath our eyes, as we told him that at one point, we'd realised the Horcrux was probably making things worse and tried to remove it. But it had been stuck to his chest, burned into his skin in actual face, so, with me trying to hold a thrashing Harry down, Hermione had had to sever the Horcrux away from the skin with a charm, meaning he now had a distinct mark on his chest.

Harry took all of this in his stride, just happy we had all escaped with our lives, until Hermione told him something she hadn't even mentioned to me yet. Harry's wand was broken, and she thought that maybe she had caused it, by shooting a Blasting Curse as we had tried to escape. Hermione was clearly distressed, she was crying as Harry inspected the broken pieces of his wand which we couldn't fix, and I moved so I was standing next to her, more than glad when Harry continually assured her that it was fine. We all knew that it wasn't though, that to lose your wand, as a wizard, was one of the very worst things to endure, and it was obvious how it took its toll on Harry, especially after all he'd been through with it, however, he hid it best he could and didn't blame Hermione.

The mood in the camp went from bad to worse over the coming weeks, with Hermione and I lending Harry our wands when it was his turn on guard duty, and with the thick winter snow meaning it was harder to rustle up some food from the foliage, spirits were once again low. However, the mood only worsened when Hermione, in an effort to cheer Harry up, gave him to copy of Rita Skeeter's 'The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore', which she had picked up in Bathilda's house, to look at. We'd skimmed through it together before, and Hermione spotted a picture and grew very interested in it, as it was one Harry had pointed out back in Godric's Hollow as the man Voldermort was searching for whenever he invaded Harry's mind. Thinking this might help him, that it would do him good to figure out who this man was and why he was important, she gave him the book. This didn't go as planned though, it turned out the man in the photo was Grindelwald, the second most feared wizard after Voldermort and who Dumbledore had stopped in his quest for world domination, however, Rita Skeeter claimed that there was more to the story than that. That Dumbledore and Grindelwald had been close friends when they were young, that they spoke of declaring the existence of Wizards to Muggles so that they could control them, 'for there own good'. This appalled even me, and I hadn't been as close to Dumbledore as Harry. It was a shocking thing to read, especially since Dumbledore had always backed the idea of equality between Wizards and Muggles, and let Muggleborns into Hogwarts freely. I didn't want to believe that it was true, it sounded so unlike the man who had helped me cope with my Sight and protected my family and me when we were in danger last year, I didn't want to think he was capable of such a fascist view. But then again, it was Rita Skeeter who had written the book, and she wasn't famous for her validity.

Harry, however, did believe it, and angry that Dumbledore had never spoken to him about this, or mentioned how similar their experiences were, with both of them losing family members, fell into a kind of dark stupor that meant Hermione and I had to hold down the fort. Which we did just fine, trying and failing to bring Harry out of his misery and dealing with the dejection which was slowly creeping up on us too, as the days passed by once again without anything really interesting happening. We coped, poorly, and with great difficulty, but we managed, steering clear of too much emotional distress ourselves. That was until one night in late December, while Hermione and I were sleeping and Harry was on guard duty with Hermione's wand, which, as with mine, he could never work as well as his own. I was lost in a deep and, mercifully, dreamless sleep, from which I didn't wake until I felt masculine hands shaking me awake, and regained my senses to the sound of familiar pleasant laughter. It was Harry, beaming down at me; green eyes alight underneath his soaking fringe, dripping cold water onto my face. Sitting up quickly in shock, I blinked a few times, groggy, until I realised that Harry was soaking and muttered something which might have been a question as to what had happened, but in my sleepy state I wasn't sure.

"I'll tell you later," Harry said with a chuckle before going over to rouse Hermione, who was awake in a flash, sleeping much lighter than I had been.

Gradually waking myself up I pushed back my bedcovers and crawled out of bed, wincing when my bare feet hit the cold floor, and grumbling about what all the fuss was about, which was slightly uncharacteristic from me, it had always been Ron who wasn't a morning person, or rather, a midnight person. However, all my tired complaints were forgotten when I spotted who was standing by the tents entrance, drenched, just as Harry was, only he was also holding a glistening sword, encrusted with rubies and looking sheepishly around the tent, clearly anxious in the familiar setting, in which he was sure he was no longer welcome. Except he was. Without thinking a single thought, without one ounce of hesitation or one bit of resentment, I suddenly felt wide awake as I sprinted across the room towards him, threw my arms around his neck and pulled my friend into a tight hug. He seemed shocked by my reaction and paused a moment, uncertain, before breathing a slight sigh of relief and returning my embrace.

"I am so sorry," Ron breathed into my ear and I shook my head, so relieved that he was back, so glad that the missing piece that made our group whole, had returned to us, that I didn't care about our last argument, or the things he had said to me, none of that mattered right now, he was back and the normal balance was restored.

"It doesn't matter," I assured him holding onto him all the tighter, smiling even as I felt a slight damper on my relief, and troubled thoughts entered my head for a moment.

I had thought that I wasn't capable of forgiveness any more, that all my clemency had been used up on one boy, but evidently I was wrong and that alarmed me, what else was I capable of forgiving? Quickly I pushed these thoughts aside though, this was different, this was Ron, my stupid idiot of a friend who always put his foot in his mouth, who always said the wrong thing but never meant any harm, Ron who we'd been missing these past months, who completed us if not me. I could make an exception for him, I could for any of my friends, and a few harsh words spoken in desperate anger was not the same as what HE had done.

So, shoving all of that into an ever growing pile in the corner of my mind of crap to deal with later, I released Ron from my embrace, as I knew that I wasn't the one whose forgiveness really mattered to him. Though Hermione, who we all knew was the most important thing in Ron's world, wasn't as willing to excuse him as I was. She had been hurt by his abandonment, more so than I thought she could ever express in words, and as she stood there, with a look on her face akin to the one I had worn so many times before, I knew it would take a lot to soften her resolve. But Ron had plenty of time for that, now that he was back for good. They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, Ron with a guilty and pleading expression in place and Hermione looking like stone sculpture, her cold expression set firmly in her features even though I knew her emotions surely ran like lava through her veins.

Then something unexpected happened, something that none of us had seen coming, despite how we all knew Hermione was furious. She ghosted forwards, as though she couldn't believe he was really there, and then suddenly, as soon as Ron was within reach, she snapped and began punching and slapping and hitting him with so much effort it brought tears to her eyes. She shouted, she swore and she screamed as she hit him, letting all the anger and hurt she'd been suffering with since he left explode out of her with the force of a tidal wave. Harry and I could only stare at them in stunned shock, until Harry had the good sense to cast a shield between them and I went to Hermione's side, guiding my friend, who still seethed and panted with the effort she had put into her assault, and even as I led her gently to a chair still scowled at Ron over her shoulder. She sat down with me by her side, ready to act as a restraint if necessary, even though I completely understood how she felt, I had to try and bring some peace back to our volatile group, and she spoke, in a voice so filled to the brim with pure rage, even as it was quiet and controlled, that both Ron and Harry took a step away from her. Sympathetic I stayed by her side and with Harry's help tried to calm her down, however she turned on us then, demanding to know where we got off telling her what to do, and beseeching us to remember all we'd been through these past weeks.

She didn't really calm down, still too livid to even contemplate forgiving him, but then the questioning started, cold and clipped from Hermione and eager from me, both of us wanted an explanation as to why the boys where dripping wet from head to toe and how Ron had managed to find us again. And so they explained, Harry said, imploringly as though it might help Hermione to absolve Ron's desertion, that Ron had saved his life, that Harry had seen a silver doe and followed it to a lake, where he found the Sword of Gryffindor buried beneath the ice. Cracking the frozen barrier Harry had dived into the lake to retrieve the sword, but the Horcrux, which Harry had been wearing, sensed that its destruction was near and had tried to strangle Harry in an attempt to save its self. However at that moment Ron, who had been following Harry, jumped in after him and pulled him and the sword from the water before removing the Horcrux and effectively saving Harry's life. Hermione was quick to chastise Harry for wondering off on a whim, endangering his own life in the process, and to belittle Ron's achievement in saving him, but I left her to this, feeling she needed to get it out of her system, finally, and much too interested in what was being said.

"And the Horcrux?" I asked anxiously, feeling a flicker of hope, given oxygen by Ron's reappearance, spark in my chest.

At my question Harry's grin widened and, from where he stood by Ron's side in front of the tent's entrance, he let the Horcrux fall from his hand until it dangled limply by its thick golden chain, its doors wide open and windows smashed against the black and white backdrop of the winter night. Just like in my vision. Three down, I thought in elation as I beamed at the boys, who went on to explain how Ron had smashed the Horcrux with the sword, effectively killing it, though, pleased though I was, I still got the feeling that they weren't telling us something, what with the knowing look they shared. But I paid little mind to that as Ron told us what had happened since he left us, how he had been cornered almost immediately by Snatchers, gangs of Death Eater rejects who swapped runaway Muggleborns and traitors for gold, but managed to evade them by pretending he was Stan Shunpike and escaping as they argued over his claim. Hermione merely scoffed at the flaws in his plan until he mentioned the hardship he suffered, how he had splinched himself trying to get away from them and lost a few fingernails, then she snapped again, shouting about how hard his life had been since he left, and how could all our suffering compare to what he'd been through. Her sarcastic rant continued, in a way that was alarmingly familiar to me, as she told him about our misadventures at Godric's Hollow and our double near death experiences there. All the while adding that it couldn't begin to match up to the pain of a loss of fingernails. Horrified at what had nearly happened to us, Ron didn't know what to say, and looked between Harry and I for confirmation, Harry lowered his gaze, undoubtedly remembering that day and I nodded. Ron paled.

No one spoke until Hermione asked Ron how he had managed to find us again, and then, somewhat reluctant lest she find something to chastise in this too, Ron explained how he had been sitting in his room in Shell Cottage, where Bill and Fleur lived and where he was forced to go since he couldn't risk going home, on Christmas Day. He spoke of hearing Hermione's voice through the Deluminator, saying his name, this declaration made Hermione turn a deep scarlet colour and my battered heart give a painful twist. He then said that he clicked the Deluminator, but instead of just turning the lights on or off it released a ball of bright blue light, which soon went inside Ron's chest and led him to us. However, even with the help of the strange light, it was still some time before Ron managed to reach us, as our enchantments kept him out, and he had been camping in the woods for some time and moving with us each day, until Harry emerged from behind the shields to follow the doe, and Ron went after him.

I had never heard of such a thing happening before, and Ron admitted, shamefully, that he thought maybe Dumbledore knew Ron would leave, and that was why he left him the Deluminator, so he could find his way back. I gave my friend a reassuring smile as Hermione recalled that he had mentioned that he got away from the Snatchers with a spare wand, and told him to give it to Harry, meaning he wouldn't have to keep borrowing ours. She turned her back on the boys then, and sensing that she probably needed someone right then, even if that person was only for company, I went with her and returned to my bunk across from hers. She was already under the covers, her eyelids shut lightly in what was almost a look of blissful relief. The struggling romantic in me smiled at that, there was still hope left then, I thought as I threw back the sheets and got back into bed, listening as the boys discussed how Ron had gotten off lightly, and they recalled the birds she had set on him the previous year. At that Hermione's voice drifted out from her bunk, proclaiming that she hadn't ruled that out yet. I laughed at little bit at that, proud of my friend's will and how there was still a chance for us all. When I looked over at her I realised that her eyes were open and that she was doing the same, sharing a small laugh with me as the boys pondered that, before she rolled over and the four of us went to sleep.

As the days wore on, things gradually returned to how they used to be in camp, only this time without the added stress the locket Horcrux had induced. Time passed and we made a surprising amount of progress, not only with our bruised friendships, but also towards figuring out some of the riddles Dumbledore had left us. One day, when spring had finally melted away the snow and the forests and hillsides once again teemed with life, Hermione made an unexpected suggestion, saying that she wanted to visit Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna's father. Surprising all of us, who were gathered around the table for dinner, until she explained that she wanted to know what the strange triangular mark in her book meant, and that since Harry had said that Mr Lovegood had been wearing the same symbol to the wedding last summer, then maybe he could tell them what it meant. Reluctant though Harry and I were, especially after the events of Godric's Hollow, we had no real choice in this, the high of destroying one Horcrux was wearing off, and the enormity of the task that still remained was returning to us, bit by bit, and while Ron's reappearance lightened all our hearts, though Hermione tried to hide it, it wasn't enough. So, with Ron speedily agreeing with Hermione, probably to get back in her good graces, and a vision from me in which I saw Mr Lovegood admit that he knew what the sign meant, it pretty much clinched the deal, as even Harry and I had to know more after that.

So, as soon as we could, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were standing on Mr Lovegood's front step, looking down at the village of Ottery St Catchpole, which his home overlooked, and thinking of the Weasley's just over the hill, and missing them. But we had to deal with the matter at hand, and to visit them would probably put them in danger, so it was safer that we left them be, at lease there was still the chance that Luna would be home, since it was still the Christmas Holidays, that was something to look forward to. Mr Lovegood let us in, somewhat reluctantly, telling us as he did so that Luna was down by the stream, looking for Freshwater Plimpies and that she would be thrilled to learn that they were here. However, we soon got down to the matter at hand and asked if he recognised the marking, he said he did and identified it as the mark of the Deathly Hollows. Which he then explained by first having Hermione read the story from the children's book, above which the mark was inched, a story called 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'.

This story told of three wizarding brothers who cheated Death, and because Death was cunning he gave each of them a reward for outwitting him, knowing they would select something which would make them his. One brother proclaimed he wanted a wand which could never be beaten in a duel, another something that could bring back the dead, and the third and the wisest something that would hide him from Death. And as promised, Death gave them each their rewards, though the third he gave grudgingly. Ultimately, all the brothers were claimed by Death, the first after he bragged about the power of his new wand in a tavern and was murdered for it, the second after being driven to suicide when the love of his life, who he had brought back from the dead, still could not be with him. The third brother, however, went to Death on his own terms, at a ripe old age where he took off the cloak he had been given to hide himself from Death and gave it to his son. Mr Lovegood claimed that these artefacts, the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility, as he called them, all truly existed and when brought together formed the Deathly Hallows and made their owner the master of Death.

However, before we could dissect this matter much further, as Hermione had serious doubts about the existence of such items, and Harry seemed clearly taken with the idea, Mr Lovegood excused himself. Talking amongst ourselves everyone selected what they believed to be the most useful; Ron chose the wand, naturally, Hermione the cloak, also an obvious choice, and Harry the stone, which again surprised no one. What was a surprise, was that I had very little to say on the matter, my friends seemed to think that meant there was something wrong with me as I am, and I quote Ron here, 'a gobby cow, at times'. Truth was though, none of them really stood out to me, no, the Elder Wand, which I saw to be the foolish desire of power hungry men, it was more of a curse than a gift, as everyone would want it. The cloak too held little appeal for me either, as Harry's Invisibility Cloak did a sterling job of hiding us, and I wasn't in the habit of shying away from a fight or spending my life hiding, with a few obvious exceptions I preferred to face things head on. The Resurrection Stone did have a certain appeal though, as guilt for things like not being able to save Sirius lay heavy on my conscious still, and to be able to reverse the worst consequences of my misinterpreted visions would be great. But, unlike my friends, the Hallows held little appeal for me, but of course, it didn't matter either way, as odds were they were just stories in a children's book and nothing more, yeah Mr Lovegood said there were people who believed they exist and searched for them, but there are people who believe in all kinds of things, so that didn't mean anything. Besides, even if they did exist, it was very unlikely that we would be able to find them, as going by what Mr Lovegood said they had been alluding wizards for centuries.

But I had more pressing personal matters to deal with as we waited for Mr Lovegood to return, there was a growing impatience and a sense of unease building up inside of me. And as Harry was climbing up the iron, spiral staircase and inspecting the upper house, and Hermione was scrutinising a horn Mr Lovegood claimed to be a Crumple Horned Snorkacks but Hermione assured us was something more dangerous, I began to feel odd. I only just managed to get out the words 'oh great', before a vision took me and Ron was by my side. This vision was terrible, nightmarish, I was in a small, oddly familiar, room with a low ceiling and very little else to take note of as thick, almost impenetrable darkness was all around me, that was until the door I had my back to was opened and light shot inside abruptly and almost painfully. My vision self paid no heed to whoever had opened the door though as, as soon as the ray of light caught a cascade of pale blond hair and illuminated the sallow and distant face of Luna Lovegood, I could focus on nothing else, and the gasp that ripped though my lungs shocked me back into reality.

Ron was holding onto my elbow, looking anxious and keeping me upright, while Hermione had turned away from the lethal horn, however, before I could explain to them what I had seen, Harry was barrelling down the staircase, saying Luna's room didn't look like it had been lived in for months, confirming my suspicions. When I told him of my vision he blanched, realising, as I had and as well all were, that Luna wasn't really here, that she was in that horrible place in my vision. When Mr Lovegood returned, looking anxiously out of the window and sweating visibly, Harry pointed out the untouched state of Luna's room and demanded to know what was going on. The older man broke, and much to our horror he told us that the Death Eaters had taken Luna from the train at Christmas, and that they wouldn't give her back until they were satisfied. Then it all clicked, what he needed to appease them, was us. I told the others this and they knew I was right, we tried to leave but Mr Lovegood wasn't about to let us, however, his efforts were in vain as just as hooded figures whooshed past the windows like great, menacing crows, he shot a stunning spell that missed all of us and hit the Erumpent Horn. We all hit the deck as the sound of a mighty explosion ripped through the room, my arms over my head to protect it I couldn't help but wince as bits of debris rained down on me, cutting at my arm. The echoing rumbles of falling objects followed the explosion and shook the room, peering up as the room shuddered and things crashed around us, I felt my eyes widen in fear as I watched Mr Lovegood, blown backwards by the explosion, tumble down the stairs. However, Hermione screamed, Ron let out a shout and the next thing I knew half the ceiling had fallen in, retuning to my protective position I couldn't spare a thought for anyone but myself and my friends.

When the dust settled I lifted my head to find myself laid, perilously, under a small shelter made when the ceiling had collapsed and a part of it had balanced on a nearby book shelf. Quickly, fearing a cave in, I crawled out to find my friends all unharmed, thankfully, but for a few scrapes and alarmed expressions they were fine. Ron was helping Hermione to her feet when I scrambled free from my shelter and Harry was looking around at the devastation, plaster dust thick in the air, making it difficult to breath properly and pulling a few coughs from my lungs. Bookshelves were over turned, the printer that produced the Quibbler was on its side, blocking the stairs, and bits of parchment were scattered everywhere. Looking upwards, at the room Harry had said was Luna's, we could see the foot of a single bed teetering hazardously.

The door banged open downstairs, we all froze and as the Death Eaters accused Lovegood of saying he had Harry just to get them here so he could try and kill them, what with the explosion, Hermione, her hair streaked white with dust, was franticly motioning for us to go, real fear in her eyes. But there was something else there too, a glimmering light and a determined look that told us she had a plan. All of us freed and with Lovegood clearing the debris that had blocked the stairs, as the Death Eaters demanded he bring us to them or else they would kill Luna, we stumbled over the wreckage on Hermione's orders, with Ron under the cloak, holding fast onto my shoulder, and Harry and I holding Hermione's hands. Hermione waited until Lovegood cleared the way, and as soon as his grief stricken face appeared she promptly wiped his memory and blasted a hole in the floor beneath us, which we fell though. That awful falling sensation pulling at my stomach as we dropped right into the room where the Death Eaters were, but, despite how my instincts screamed this was a bad idea, I trusted Hermione and she allowed the Death Eaters only a glimpse of us, so they'd know Lovegood was telling the truth, before she apparated us to safety.

After that day very little of anything happened, we moved around as per usual and planned, with Ron as the surprising driving force behind most of our actions, he took up the role of temporary leader with an eagerness with probably had something to do with making amends. Hermione and I helped him as he tried to entice Harry into getting excited about finding the three remaining Horcruxes, but we had little success as Harry's mind was always elsewhere. He had latched onto the idea of the Hallows, almost viewing them as our salvation, as the only true way we could defeat Voldermort and his Death Eaters, so much so that he paid no mind to the remaining Horcruxes. Between the Hallows and Rita Skeeter's book, it was very difficult to get more than a few words out of Harry, he was so absorbed.

However, despite Harry's new obsession, things in the camp were fine. Greatly changed from how they were a few short months ago, but I wasn't sure that was exactly a bad thing. We were almost content, us four, or perhaps we would have been if we could figure out where the Horcrux was, or divert Harry's attention just for a little while. As well as that, I knew that I'd feel lots better if I could just shake this feeling that my disturbance was coming soon. But things weren't bad, and at the moment, barely escaping with our lives twice in as many months, that was as much as we could hope for really. So, sitting together in the living area, sometime in March, when the weather was starting to warm again and the forest was a much pleasanter place to be, while Harry was sitting by the tent flaps on guard duty, Hermione was re-reading a book on defensive magic, and I was idly inspecting the memory vial Dumbledore had given me, we were fine and at ease. Or at least, I would have been at ease if I hadn't been pushing down inexplicable nerves all day, there was a strange twisting in my stomach that had me on edge, it was as though I was dreading something but I had no idea what, and while this was familiar to me by now, it was stronger than ever before. This odd sense of foreboding had also prompted me to take out the vial for inspection, I got the peculiar idea that it would useful, how, I didn't know, for what, I hadn't a clue, but I was still staring deeply into the swirling mist of the memory, as Ron twiddled with the radio again.

Ever since his return Ron had been in the habit of tuning the radio, trying to find this one wizarding station which he called 'Potterwatch'. When he explained this to a bewildered Harry, Ron said that Potterwatch was a secret radio program, dedicated to telling the truth about what was going on where the Prophet and Wizarding Wireless wouldn't. However, he also said, you needed a password to listen to it, and he hadn't a clue what the new one was, though apparently they were always something related to the Order. However today Ron finally had his success, and as he, losing faith, muttered the word 'Albus', the radio shot into life and the familiar voice of Lee Jordan streamed out. Ron went to get Harry and Hermione and I scooted closer to the radio, excited, when Harry and Ron returned the four of us sat cross-legged on the floor like children and listened eagerly.

It was great, just sitting there and listening as our friends, many of which it turned out were frequent guests on the show, took their turn to speak on the big issues of the moment, using code names to hide their identities from any listening Death Eaters, but of course we could identify them all. In addition to Lee Jordan there was: Fred Weasley, Kingsley, Lupin, and, of all people, Lester, the market stall owner back in my home town. Who under the code name 'Retail,' warned listeners to be cautious of the dark arts shops springing up around the country, and to not be a 'bloomin' idiot' and 'risk yeh neck on a product tha' would bite yeh arse an not protect it.' It was brilliant to hear them all, it was almost a dose of home and what we had been missing, their antics and jokes cheered us up to no end, and it was great to know that people were on our side. Apart from hearing the news that Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell and the goblin Gornuk, who we had heard by the river the fateful day Ron left, had been found dead (though mercifully Dean and the other goblin still seemed to be alive) and that Hagrid had to go on the run after hosting a 'Support Harry Potter Party', all of which distressed us, it was pretty enjoyable listening.

"Good, eh?" Ron asked grinning, as the broadcast concluded. We all agreed, wholeheartedly, that it was. A whole secret network of listeners and presenters providing the rebels of the Wizarding World with a way to communicate (albeit one-sidedly) and to protect others, was amazing.

Hermione commented on how brave and dangerous it was though, as if they were ever found the Death Eaters would surely show no mercy, and Ron agreed, but said that they kept on moving their base and kept broadcasts irregular, making it harder for the Death Eaters to track them. Then, thinking of Lester, I asked if guests volunteered or were asked to give a segment, and Ron said that he didn't know, but he thought all the speakers had to be in the Order of the Phoenix, which gave me a lot of questions to ask Lester if we ever got out of this mess. Harry, however, seemed to pick up on another point.

"But did you hear Fred?" He asked excitedly, an odd look in his eyes.

"Hear him say what?" I asked but Harry hardly needed my input as he was already speaking again.

"He's abroad!" he exclaimed, referring to what Fred had said about Voldermort "He's still looking for the wand, I knew it!"

Promptly I rolled my eyes but otherwise said nothing, Harry had been going on about little else but Voldermort's apparent plan to acquire the Elder Wand for weeks, and while I thought that there was a possibility it was true, there was little we would do about it now without further proof, and Harry's interest in it was borderline obsession by now.

"Harry-" Hermione started but didn't get a chance to finish as Harry cut across her.

"Come on, Hermione, why are you so determined not to admit it? Vol-"

"HARRY, NO!" Ron roared and fear hit me suddenly then, right out of the blue I was cold with dread and knew, just knew, something bad was about to happen. Here it comes. I thought ominously.

"-dermort's after the Elder Wand!"

"The names a Taboo!" Ron cried jumping to his feet, as Harry had done amidst his revelation, and looking terrified he quickly glanced at the tent door "I told you, Harry, I told you, we cant say the name any more – we've got to put the protection back around us-" Ron said, hastening towards the door and as I watched him go I swayed a little where I sat, frozen on the floor, in a way which had nothing to do with fear.

A jolt resonated though me and I sat bolt upright where I was, eyes wide and a gasp escaping my lips as an otherworldly breeze drifted across the forefront of my brain and I was abruptly yanked from the present. An explosion of colour before my inner eye cleared up to show a dimly lit corridor ahead of me, I jerked about painfully as my vision self moved and stumbled along, but held my head high in defiance and with a firmly set jaw, even as dread trickled icily through my veins. I felt the rubbing of rope around my waist, cutting into my stomach and smarting when I lurched, and awkwardly tossed my long hair out of my eyes as I was pushed forwards. I was bound, arms pinned tightly to my sides by pressing bodies on my left and right, meaning the only thing I could really move was me feet, and even then I was tripping up as our captor violently urged me and the other captivates down the corridor. I tried to resist, digging my heels into the thick emerald carpet, but the weight of the other's tied around me and strength of the men urging us forwards defeated me. I was panicking, my heat beat pounding relentlessly in my chest and my breathing coming out in fearful gasps, no, I thought wide eyed as the end of the corridor neared, no this can't be happening, not like this. Biting my bottom lip I fought to keep tears out of my eyes and won, still holding my head up high I refused to look weak and tried to quell my fear but found that I couldn't, that it was too strong for me. Appalled by this I settled for masking my fear with my fury, a disguise I was familiar with by this point, and braced myself for heartache as the door was thrown open.

"-Quickly-" Ron continued, a split second only having passed since my vision took me, but still Hermione, who was also sat on the floor, was reaching forwards to keep me upright, looking terrified.

"It's too late," I whispered faintly, feeling my thrumming heart start to pound louder and louder in my ears, they were coming.

"-It's how they find-" Ron stopped, mouth still open as though to speak, and turned slowly, wide eyed like a dear caught in headlights, towards the Sneakoscope Harry kept on the table, it was spinning. He gulped, and we all knew why. Acting fast Ron pulled the Deluminator from his pocket and extinguished the lamps, as night had fallen by this point, but then just stood there, painfully still, knowing there was nothing else we could do. No one said a word, the only sounds our individual breathing and, for me at least, the highly audible sound of my panicking heart, until…

"Come out with your wands up! We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't care who we curse!"

The four of us shared horrified looks, knowing there was nothing we could do, so slowly and decidedly, I rose to my feet, a little unsteady thanks to the lingering effects of my vision, and pulled a trembling Hermione up with me. My gaze flicking between my friends I set my expression to the one I would relay on heavily over the coming days, defiant determination, and turned to look at the tent flaps. Here it comes, I thought again with certainty despite how I couldn't know what was to come next, now it's my turn.

**Author note: *holds head in hand* oh the shame, such an appalling chapter, but, it had to be done, I HATE transition chapters, but there are necessary and it's gotten me to where I wanted to be. I must focus now on what is to come and as you to forgive the car crash, but at least there was a bit of Draco at the start.**

**Quick question. Do we have any vidders or artists amongst us? Since I am neither, not for lack of trying lol, and I'd like to have a visual of how you see the story or its characters, I was wondering if any of you would be interested in doing a sketch or a trailer or something? KTDC55 mentioned on YT that she'd like to see a trailer, but since I'm a shocking vidder, I wonder if there is anyone willing to take up the task? It would mean the world to me if someone did. Anyway let me know.**

**Happy New Year! :)**


	14. Fanning the flames

**Author note: Finally, finally, we are here, the long awaited chapter, I can only hope that it lives up to your expectations. Please enjoy.**

**And P.S. A massive thanks to Aoi, my 100th review, and to everyone who has reviewed this fic so far. 100 reviews already? I cant tell you how chuffed I am.**

**Chapter fourteen: Fanning the flames**

**"Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire." Francois de la Rochefouauld**

**Ivy**

An unbearable weight was pressing down on me mercilessly from every side, under its intense strength I felt as though I was being crushed, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I could only stay were I was, cringing at the heavy burden. It was agony beyond measure, I felt as though I might scream my heart out, and would have if I could have drawn breath to do so. I couldn't handle this, all my brave words and furious temper were all nothing, they were a front, I couldn't take this pressure, this fear, this anguish, the weight on my body and my mind was too much. How could anyone be expected to deal with this? There was only so much pain a single human could withstand and I felt I'd reached my limit long ago, but still I soldiered on, taking all the world had the throw at me and trying not to complain too much. I had a short fuse it was true and lashed out when I probably shouldn't, but still, I didn't deserve this. This was cruel and unusual punishment, the work of a sadist, and I was going to break under this pressure.

And then I felt the chill night wind blow around me, I heard the rush sounds all around, and knew we'd reached our destination, that the apparation was over. And that, if it was possible, made me feel even worse. The agony hadn't lessoned one bit. The excruciating pain bearing down on me was still there, for it had nothing to do with apparation. My heart was contracting even as it pounded painfully against my ribs, so violent was its thumping that I was sure it wanted to break free from my chest and run as much as I did. I stared at the concrete pavement for a moment and took a shuddering breath which seemed to do nothing, as I still felt as though I might faint at any moment. Before slowly raising my head to look in trepidation at the tall, wrought-iron gates in front of me and the long and daunting drive that led to the formidable fortress beyond, distinctly framed against the dark night sky. My stomach dropped. Oh dear God. I managed to think as I stared up at the old manor house, this can't be happening.

There were no lights on in the many windows that faced us, but I knew better than to hope that meant there was no one home, they were probably at the back of the house and luck didn't seem to work that way for me. Gulping I felt my panic bubble close to hysteria, this had to be someone's idea of a joke, some sick person's game, because if I wasn't so terrified myself I would have to laugh at the sheer irony of this. Here I was, bound by Snatchers and about to be brought like a criminal before the man who betrayed me and his family, when I had thought the next time I saw him, he would be the one who had to beg for my mercy. Talk about humiliating.

"Move along," One of the Snatchers, Scabior snarled as he roughly took hold of the rope around my waist and began to drag us forwards. He was a tall, thin man with a grimy, unwashed appearance, his clothes stank to the high heavens and he seemed to have a special and alarming fondness for me. And something snapped inside me then, I'd been calm and strong ever since they'd pulled us from our tent back in the forest, trying to be brave, but ever since they'd realised who we were and brought us here my control had be heading in a downwards spiral and the ground was in sight.

"Watch it!" I growled as I stumbled forwards, the weight of the others as they were shoved along with me throwing me off balance, and feeling my freefalling stomach twist in disgust as the Snatcher trailed finger along my stomach under the guise of pulling us forwards again.

When he just looked at me and laughed cruelly, the fragile fuse I had managed to maintain thus far, but for the snap a second ago, blew and I stuck out a leg to trip the creep, causing him to stagger and me and the others to lurch along with him. When his furious gaze found mine I made sure my best dangerous expression was in place before I hissed,

"I mean it,"

But, apparently Scabior wasn't in the mood for my insolence, as his harsh eyes narrowed and he wasted not a second before striking me around the face. Since I was not expecting this my head snapped violently to the side and I gasped. Turning back to him I made sure my expression relayed none of my shock or pain, but couldn't help but scowl at him as I felt a trickle of blood run down my stinging face.

"Leave her alone!" Ron exclaimed from where he was tied by my right hand side, he sounded brave but I felt him cringe when the Snatcher rounded on him.

"Another tart of yours is she, Ginger?" He asked mockingly recalling Ron's protectiveness over Hermione earlier "What a shame, but still, we aren't picky, and she is so very, very pretty." He said, trailing a finger down my cheek, the one he had slapped and was slick with my blood. I pulled a repulsed face and tried to jerk away from him but said or did nothing more, I hadn't the space to.

"Where do we go?" Another Snatcher asked as he looked up at the locked gates, drawing Scabior's attention away from us and causing Ron to exhale in relief, Harry, who was on my left hand side and facing forwards, where as I was slightly at an angle, squeezed my hand as best he could through our bonds, and tightly I returned the gesture, needing all the comfort I could get but unwilling to ask for it.

"They're locked, Greyback, I cant – blimey!" The other Snatcher said as he reached his hand out to the gates, only to find that at his touch the solid metal shifted and contorted like a swirling mist at an alarming speed.

I fought as Scabior dragged us right up to the gates, my heels sliding across the rain damp concrete and my back pressed firmly against Dean, who was tied up directly behind me, with Harry on his right and the Goblin Griphook on his left, who had Hermione next to him. Looking up from where she was tied to the back, Hermione caught my gaze as I tried to resist our movement, my head franticly turning left to right in my desperation. Her sad, understanding eyes found my hysterical ones and I had to look away, she understood how I was feeling all too well. Except, she didn't know how it felt, not really, how could she even begin to understand how it felt to be taken here, to be about to see him in the state that I was, but that wasn't her fault, she just hadn't been through what I had. Of all the Death Eater run places they could have taken us, they brought us here. I half wished they'd taken us to the Ministry instead as they had planned to, even after the catastrophe of the last time we were there. But no, we'd been half way through our lies and saying that we were just innocent truants, when Greyback recognised me from the Undesirable Number two posters as the Seer known to be travelling with Harry Potter. I didn't even get a chance to use my alias, which would have been Pansy Parkinson if you're interested, though that would have been rumbled fairly easily when I was brought here anyway.

It hadn't taken them too long to realise that if I was here, though I protested that I wasn't myself, and since the others did look a lot like Harry's other friends, just matured a little, then surely the other guy must be Harry. That gave them trouble though, as while Ron was hyperventilating and I was stuffing the memory vial I still held into my sock, Hermione cast a stinging jinx on Harry which greatly disfigured his face, leaving him largely unrecognisable. But they spotted that accursed scar, and here we were, since Harry Potter, his wand, friends and a strange sword was much too important to take to the Ministry for gold, they were coming straight to the big man. And I was bricking it.

"State your purpose," a cool, spectral voice said and Greyback stepped forwards.

"We've got Potter!" he excitedly announced "And the Jones girl! We've captured them!"

In response to this the gates immediately swung open and the Snatchers roughly urged us forwards.

"No!" I said in a tight voice as I stumbled forwards, barely keeping on my feet as the others banged into me and I rooted myself firmly to the ground.

But it did me no good, I had no real choice but to move as Scabior tugged on my rope again, jerking me about. I stared up at the Manor as we approached it, teeth gritted, heart pounding and my eyes narrow slits of rage, the thought of seeing his smug traitorous face alighting a passion within me, but ultimately I knew there was nothing I could do, I knew I was a lamb being led to the slaughter.

**Draco**

Nothing, nothing in the world, could have possibly prepared Draco for what he had to face that evening. He had returned from the Owlery in marginally calmer spirits and with less of a headache, which had the blond Death Eater almost thinking that today might just be manageable. However, after supper Draco was required to sit in the drawing room awhile with his family, as he had only been back from school a few days. It was a painful affair to say the least, but Draco, short of being in a very bad mood for the rest of the night, had very little say in the matter and hoped his parents would get over this false oh-how-we've-missed-you crap soon, and let him retire to his room in peace. Little did he know that stomaching a few hours listening to the Dark Lord's plans and how amazing he was, would be the least of his worries.

Night had fallen, the lamps were lit, the fire was burning in the hearth, and the drawing room was shadowed by the glow of the fire, giving it a creepy aura Draco hadn't noticed before but didn't mind much at all. The Malfoy's had fallen into a silence, exhausting all topics of discussion and Draco's patience and willingness to contribute, by cursing Potter's escape at Godric's Hollow. So all pursued their own thoughts for a while, until the sound of a nonexistent tinkling bell echoed through the room and alerted the inhabitants to the fact that there was someone at the gates. All three Malfoy's looked up, the Dark Lord was away on a mission, no one was expecting visitors, and with the exception of Bellatrix and Kidda the House Elf, there was no one but them in the Manor. Not wanting to bring on the Dark Lord's wrath should this be something of importance, Narcissa promptly got to her feet to find out who it was. Mercifully, and Draco had never thought he'd use these words to describe his aunt, his mother's presence in the room was replaced by Bellatrix, who had come in to find out what was going on and spared Draco from having to make conversation with his father. Because of this Draco began to fantasise about slipping out of the room while his father and aunt were talking, and escaping whatever was to follow. Liking the idea, Draco was quickly on his feet and half way across the room in an instant, not about to be stopped by anything, but froze where he was when the door to the drawing room suddenly reopened.

Shock rocketed through Draco as he stared with wide eyes at the door, disbelief trickling slowly through his system and jolting every nerve into life. He was completely frozen, unable to move or think, only feel and observe as eyes found those he'd been thinking about constantly for well over a year. The room fell silent, and but for his distinctly beating heart and the blood pounded loudly in his ears, Draco couldn't hear a sound. But that wasn't surprising; the rest of the world might have faded away in that instant and he wouldn't have known, for she was the only thing he saw. He had tried to convince himself, many a time, that she wasn't so beautiful as he remembered, it was a kind of self preservation thing to help him should he see her again, but all it did was make the effect of her true beauty hit him all the harder. She was stunning. Her long mahogany hair, longer than he remembered, fell in a cascade across her forehead and framed her face, a single strand sticking to her rosy, bow shaped lips, which where parted ever so slightly. It was her eyes that shocked him from his appreciation and widened his tunnel vision, though, as the rich chocolate orbs were once again almost obscured by a narrowed, furious gaze, however, there was something else there, shining dimly at the back of her eyes and it took Draco a little while to realise what that was. It was fear, and he soon realised why. Ivy was a captive.

His perspective widening abruptly Draco noticed, for the first time, that she was not alone, Ivy, bound and livid, was tied together in a circle of prisoners, amongst which were Weasley, Granger, Thomas, a goblin, and a third male Draco took to be Potter, though he didn't look like himself at the moment. But none of that was important, Draco's focused but confused mind disregarded the others almost as soon as he observed them, no, what caught his attention next were the three men standing proudly by the group's side, two men he didn't recognise, though he noticed one of them was holding onto the rope in front of Ivy, and also Greyback was with them. Draco stifled a horrified shudder before looking from his mother, who stood by the door, to the eager men who were obviously Snatchers, and then to the gathering of captives in the middle of the drawing room, or more specifically, Ivy. Fear tightened his heart, constructing it so much that it could no longer perform the back flips it had been doing at the sight of her. She shouldn't be here, he thought as his confusion mounted, it wasn't safe for her, if she was captured then she would be at the Dark Lords mercy, and he would use shamelessly her for her Seeing abilities before murdering her for her allegiance to Potter, and that was something, even as a thought, that Draco couldn't bear. Feeling cold dread slip through him Draco reluctantly turned his gaze on his mother questioningly, trying to get over his shock and fear so that he could ask her what he needed to in a clear and level voice. But he was struggling, there was a lump forming in his throat and he felt as though he was choking, she couldn't be here!

"What is this?" Draco's father asked from behind him in a cold, demeaning voice, as though the sight before him repulsed him, and for once Draco was grateful, as his father voiced his own question.

"They say they've got Potter and the Seer," Draco's mother said walking around the captives staining her drawing room floor, as her son's gaze returned to the struggling brunette, whose fierce brown eyes were locked upon him.

Draco didn't think he had ever seen her so angry. As she fought against her restraints, giving the Snatcher who held the rope a hard time controlling her, she had eyes only for Draco, though not in the way he would have liked. She looked capable murder, and in Draco's opinion furious didn't even begin to cover how she looked, this had Draco feeling so frustrated and, embarrassingly, wounded that he had to restrain himself from justifying his actions to her. No, he told himself sternly as she violently tossed a strand of hair out of her eyes and glared at him, let her hate me, it's safest, and I can look after her better from this side of the lines. It doesn't matter that she doesn't know the truth, he insisted, that she doesn't know how much I have struggled with this and how I had no choice, she's just one woman, and things are better this way for us both. But God, did it hurt to see the loathing in her eyes.

"Draco," Narcissa said, in an odd tone as she watched a brief flash of agony shoot across her son's hard face, an expression so subtle that she was the only one to notice it, and then a flicker of rage as, though she didn't know it, Draco spotted the cut upon Ivy's bloodstained cheek. "Come here."

Draco looked at her for a moment, her face, as sharp and pale as his own, looking somewhat confused as she beheld him, while his wide grey-blue eyes were almost pleading as he looked at her, almost. Feeling like a traitor all over again, but deciding he might as well give her another reason to hate him, Draco stepped forwards towards the group, reluctance, fear and self disgust filling him as he stood there, straight backed and seemingly pound, ready to damn or save her.

**Ivy**

"…My son, Draco, is home for the Easter Holidays…" Narcissa Malfoy had said as she led us through the dark and decorated corridors of her home and, unknowingly, with those nine simple words she robbed me of all that remained of my hope.

He's here, I thought dejectedly as the mother of the boy I once thought I might have loved, guided me towards him as a prisoner. Was there anything lower than this? I wondered as I fought desperately to fill my stressing lungs with air, but tried to act as though none of this fazed me, even though in my head my world was exploding. This has to be rock bottom; I can't possibly sink any lower than this, surely this is my Hell, my punishment for whatever bad thing I've done, because it was all I could think this was. I fought all the way down the hall, even though I knew there was nothing I could do, there was a stubborn part of me that refused to go down without a fight, and under the worried gazes of my friends and the disgusted looks of Narcissa Malfoy, I gave my all I breaking free of the ropes that bound me. It didn't matter though, nothing I did worked, and in next to no time the Snatchers were roughly pushing me from Purgatory and through the gates of Hell. Dramatic yes, an exaggeration, no.

Draco Malfoy was already on his feet when we stumbled into the room, as soon as his cool, blue gaze landed on us his expression shot to one of intense shock and confusion, and he stood there tall and haughty as we staggered to a stop. I took a steadying breath as I looked at him, my scowl firmly in place and laced thickly with hate, and felt a tremor run through me and my heart, no longer contracting, pound against my chest with a new vigour. One glance at him and it all came flooding back, all the memories I'd tried to hard to repress these past months, our friendship, his betrayal, the kisses, all of it flashed painfully before my eyes and the mere memory of them had me feeling like I'd just been kicked in the stomach. It still hurt and I hated that.

But my gaze was drawn to him, once I spotted him there I could look at nothing else, and at first I thought that was because of how I hated him, with such strength that he took up all of my mind. But a gasp soon caught in my throat that had nothing to do with any fury. Oh dear God, I thought in horror, had he always looked like that? I honestly couldn't remember, I'd made him out to be such a pantomime villain in my head that I didn't know. He stood there, tall and elegant in his black suite-like robes, stark and sophisticated against the contrast of his creamy white skin. His shoulders were broader than I remembered, and I was sure that he had not been that tall before. However, while his body alone had my heart pumping out warmth instead of blood, it wasn't long before my eyes found his face, the clear, sharp lines of his jaw and nose, his neatly styled platinum hair, which I had run my fingers thought more times than I cared to remember, and I felt myself quiver. His most notable features though, and the ones that most captured my still grudging attention, were his brilliant cool blue eyes, alight with something that I couldn't place, but narrowed at the same time in confusion.

Looking at him I felt breathless, I couldn't help it, it ought not to have been possible, and it made me disgusted with myself that I felt this way, but, I was still…attracted to him. Infuriatingly, his arrogant beauty still did something for me, and that unwarranted and horrifying conclusion had me hating him all the more. I didn't want to want him; he had betrayed my trust, betrayed our school and joined the vilest group of men to ever walk the Earth. I hated him and the knowledge that I held even the slightest desire for him made me feel sick. Scowling at him as I continued, even in the presence of all the Malfoys, to struggle against my restraints, I felt my fury strengthen tenfold, stoked by my body's repulsive reaction to the traitor in front of me. Malfoy Jr's eyes found mine and my heart lurched, no longer trying to escape my chest to flee, so it seemed, but now frantic to get to him, to the boy who it might have once belonged. Something in my stomach fluttered and my scowl deepened. Damn hormones! I thought furiously, and then reconsidered, no, damn Malfoy!

I quickly looked away, not caring that it was a sign of weakness, as I simply couldn't handle the sight of him any longer, the rush of conflicting emotions flooding through me was too painful. Silently I fumed, taking quick breaths as I glared at the floor and at Scabior's muddy shoes, but I couldn't resist for long, powerful emotions were still raging inside of me and I couldn't help but look back at him. Heaven help me, I thought in a breathy voice when my eyes met with his, my heart beating like a butterfly's wings even as rage pulsed in my veins. How could it be possible to feel this way about someone, to hate them so much but to swoon at the sight of them? I never did before, I was sure of it. It's all biological, I told myself firmly, its because you haven't seen a single male but Harry and Ron for months, it's a desperate physical attraction brought on my a long absence from men, nothing more. And I had to believe that, I was so determined to hate him and so scared by what had happened last year that I refused, point blank, to except that I still had any feelings for him. Thankfully, loathing him was made easier by the expression he wore, but for the look of shock when I was dragged in here with the others, Draco's expression had been nothing but indifferent, his lips were set in a firm line and his look was cold and aloof. It was easier to hate him when he was acting a twat.

"Well boy?" Greyback growled as Draco slowly stepped towards us, I took some pleasure, even amongst my fear and humiliation, in that my death stare was the reason he was so hesitant.

Pulling myself a little taller I kept my gaze fixed on the traitor as he approached, daring him, just daring him, to grass us up with my eyes. However, when he came to a stop in front of us, so that he could get a good luck at Harry and decide if it was him or not and really drop us in it, his expression was still impassive. Go on then, I thought harshly, do it you lying little rat, you must know its him, the effects of the jinx were already wearing off, someone who's known Harry as long as you have can surely see that its him. So why don't you just make your masters day and tell them it's him? Only, he didn't, Draco just glanced at me again, his cold eyes looking me up and down, before he stepped even closer still. He was too close now, my traitorous heart practically leapt out of my chest and I felt a pull, deep in my heart towards him, I wanted to turn away again, it was sickening how badly I wanted to be near him and his proximity was fogging my mind, brining up memories I really didn't need reminding of right now. The ring, still hanging from the chain around my neck and mercifully hidden by my jumper, suddenly felt heavier, I was more aware of its presence than I had been in a long while, it too seemed to be responding to the boy before me. All this, I thought, and it's not even me he's looking at any more, his fleeting gaze had already flicked back to Harry.

My friends and I are about to die, or be handed over to the most dangerous wizard in the world, and my heart is behaving like that of a silly teenage girl meeting a movie star. I really am pathetic.

"Well, Draco?" Lucius Malfoy asked eagerly "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

I felt my sanity return in the form of fear as Malfoy, who was right in front of Harry now but not really looking at him even though he was supposed to be inspecting him, answered "I cant – I cant be sure," he said, his gaze flitting between me, Harry and the floor. My gaze never left his face as he stood there and never softened one bit, I refused, despite me adolescent emotions, to be the fragile one here, I hated him, and I wanted him to know it.

"But look at him carefully, look!" Lucius insisted as he sprang forwards the guide his son even closer and causing my heart to damn near explode "come closer!" he urged, please don't, I whined internally.

Again Draco, looking as though the entire thing bored him, shrugged and said that he didn't know, however, as I was puzzling over that, but by no means taking it to mean he was on our side, Lucius' gaze turned on me. There was an alarming spark of recognition in his grey eyes, I could see it plainly, and though I met his steady gaze I couldn't help the string of internal cursing and panic. Oh crap, he recognised me. I had had the misfortune to meet Lucius Malfoy a few times over the years and I could tell that he recognised me as one of Harry's friends. The older Malfoy's expression tightened in distaste as he beheld me, before he promptly guided his son to face me.

"What about her?" he asked quickly, before glancing over at the Snatchers and saying "she is the one you believe to be the Seer?"

"Aye," Scabior growled as he tugged on the rope, from where he stood in front of me, and I lurched uncomfortably before shooting daggers at him "she is. Been nothing but trouble from the start as well."

"Can you blame me?" I muttered and Scabior struck me again for my insolence. I couldn't help the cry that escaped my lips, but I made sure that my expression was hard once more before I turned back to Draco and his father, not wanting to lose face.

Anxiously, Harry's fingers found my own again and he gripped my hand tightly, as he couldn't say anything to me or to Scabior without them realising who he was. Drawing strength from the show of support once more I held onto him firmly and sensing my need Harry didn't pull away from me, he carried on gripping my hand securely. Malfoy noticed this.

"Draco," Lucius said to his son, drawing his attention up from mine and Harry's entwined hands "Look closely, this is important, is it her? Is she the Seer? For goodness sake boy, you spent enough time with her last year, surely you know if this is Jones or not!"

He almost looked conflicted as he stared at me, blue eyes searching for something in my expression, which was as cold and haughty as his had been. I didn't know if he found what he was looking for, as Draco, his fathers hand clasped firmly on his shoulder, only continued to look at me, even as his father anxiously prompted him with a vigorous shake, his eyes never left mine. Why isn't he telling them? I wondered as I felt unwelcome confusion seep through me, which I really didn't need right then as this situation warranted a clear head, but there was nothing I could do about it, his reluctance to confirm their correct suspicions bewildered me. Surely he could tell it was me. In fact this confusion was becoming so excruciating, as it tugged at my decidedly low hopes and tried to raise them, that I wished that he'd just tell them already, just to get it over with and stop messing with my head.

"I-" Draco started to say, his expression unreadable but his eyes frantic as he spoke so quietly that I was sure I was the only one that heard. I felt the strangest sense of relief Bellatrix when interrupted him, having been fearing what he might have said even as I wished he'd just get on with it.

"What does it matter what the boy says?" Bellatrix, who had been unusually quiet and observant until this point, exclaimed "It's clearly Potter, look at the others, we've all seen enough of these brats to know them when we see them!"

Impatient with the way things were going the dark haired, unhinged woman strode forwards as Draco slipped away to stand beside his mother over by the fireplace, and as I watched him go, I was oddly disappointed. I had expected more from him than skating round the truth and sulking away, somehow. God knows why, I thought irritably.

"We must inform the Dark Lord this instant," she said eagerly as she lent in close to Harry and reached out to sweep his fringe from his forehead in a way that made Harry cringe. I watched, repulsed, as a cruel smile curled her lips and she traced a stretched lightening bolt on Harry's skin, obviously having seen it. "This is Potter and his filthy little friends, I am sure of it," she swept backwards, knocking back the sleeve on her left arm with one fluid movement "I shall call him, oh how he will reward us!"

Feeling every frightened beat of my frantic heart I watched in horror as she went to press the mark on her arm, squeezing Harry's hand all the tighter and seeking out Ron's shaking one to my right. I looked over at Hermione and saw that she looked as terrified as I felt, though she stopped shaking a little when Ron's hand slipped into hers and held it firmly. She was going to summon him. I thought as I quickly turned back to Bellatrix, feeling all my hope drain out of me. Voldermort was coming here, tied and bound as we were there was nothing we could do to stop her, no chance of us being able to run, our luck had run out, this was it.

"I was about to call him!" Lucius said, reminding me of a whiney child as he quickly grabbed Bellatrix's arm, covering her mark and preventing her from summoning her beloved master. "I shall summon him, Bella; Potter has been brought to my house, and is therefore upon my authority-"

"Your authority!" Bellatrix exclaimed mockingly as she tried to throw off Lucius' grip "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

"This is nothing to do with you," Lucius hissed threateningly "you did not capture the boy-"

Greyback joined the dispute then, reminding them of who actually had captured us and wanting his payment, Bellatrix sneered at his desire for gold and not honour, and Lucius, slimy eel that his is, assured them in his best politician's voice that they would get what they deserved. But then something unexpected happened and all of us, even Draco who I hadn't let out of my line of sight since he sulked off and who had been largely impassive throughout this whole scene, reacted. Bellatrix had spotted the Sword of Gryffindor. Crap I managed to think. She swiftly strode forwards, throwing the full might of her intimidating presence upon the Snatcher who held the sword, and as Harry, Hermione, Ron and I shared alarmed looks, knowing that her finding out we had that wasn't good, she demanded the Snatcher give it to her. When he refused she snapped and stunned him. Ignoring the other Snatchers, who were in an uproar over her attack, she took up the sword and inspected it, that was until Scabior, who still stood in front of my, roared in outrage and drew his wand. Seeing this she turned on the three remaining Snatchers before they could even begin to attack her, her incredible skills as a dueller making short work of them. I had to move back, pressing myself against Dean's back, to avoid being hit by the falling Scabior as she stunned him and his fellow, and looking down on the unconscious creepy little man, I didn't feel any real sympathy.

"Where did you get this sword?" Bellatrix asked Greyback, who was forced into a kneeling position in front of her, her voice full of dark menace. Greyback fought but her spell held strong, and she ignored him as he snarled. "Snape sent it to my vault at Gringotts!" she continued.

"It was in there tent," Greyback groaned under the weight of Bellatrix's spell "Release me, I say!"

With a wave of her wand Bellatrix freed him and the werewolf sprang to his feet, immediately backing away from her and eyeing her with a mixture of distrust, hate and wounded pride. Bellatrix paid no further heed to him though and had already rounded on her family, as my friends and I fretted over what this meant for us. Not only would we lose the sword today, if not our lives, Voldermort would know what we had been up to and would surely be prompted to make more Horcruxes in the interest of his own safety, so all our hard work would have been for nothing.

"Draco," Bellatrix barked and my head snapped in his direction on its own accord, watching as Draco's restrained expression wavered at his aunt's tone and I realised, with little or no sympathy, that he was afraid of her "move this scrum outside," she gestured to the snatchers "if you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

"Don't you dare speak to Draco like-" Narcissa exclaimed, indignant, but Draco was already making his almost reluctant way towards the Snatchers, so I guessed Bellatrix was right, that Draco was the Death Eater wuss, and Bellatrix cut across her.

"Be quiet!" She cried as Draco tentatively neared the first Snatcher, Scabior, who was the closest "The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy!"

I kept my unforgiving gaze fixed firmly upon him as he approached, hardly even aware of his mother and aunt arguing in the background, as once again he took up all of my attention. My shameful heart gave a humiliating flutter as he approached but I made sure there was no outward evidence of that, in fact, my expression must have been a sight to behold, as I made no effort to hide the disgust I felt for the task Draco had been assigned. I was still holding on to Harry and Ron as Malfoy approached, his expression a neutral mask even under the death stares my loyal friends were throwing his way. He bent down right in front of me holding my gaze for a moment and sending strange and not at all unpleasant sensations running though me, which I had to fight to ignore. However, all I had to do was remember the task he had just been given, to remind myself that this boy was a Death Eater, and the feverish heat humming though my veins cooled. Draco had been ordered to kill these men and he had stepped forward to do it as though it was a normal, everyday occurrence, he's a vile Death Eater, no matter how well he's maturing.

I kept my back rigidly straight as he adjusted Scabior's arms to make levitating him easier and watched him with disapproving eyes as he rose back to his feet, my repulsed expression almost a question, as to whether of not he could actually murder them. Close enough to touch, Draco refused to look me in the eyes as he turned away and drew his wand, and holding my head high I felt an awful stab to my heart then, still managing to be hurt by what he was capable of, even now. He's a heartless killer Ivy, I reminded myself ardently, and this is the side he chose.

"The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think of what to do!" Bellatrix insisted as I watched Draco, his blond head down, back away a bit so he had a clear space to levitate Scabior.

"This is my house, Bella, you do not give orders in my-" Lucius said warning, clearly having enough of his sister-in-law assuming control.

"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!" She screeched and I tore my narrowed gaze away from Draco long enough to take a long look at her and know that she was frightened, the sword being in our possession was obviously a very big deal, she looked nothing short of terrified.

There was a moment's pause, the mutter of a spell from Draco which drew my gaze back to him and the Snatcher he now levitated, and then Narcissa spoke.

"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback." She ordered in a grave voice and I felt the others begin to shift around me, distressed.

"Wait," said Bellatrix suddenly "all except…except for the Mudblood."

A number of things happened simultaneously then, Greyback gave sickening grunt of pleasure, I felt my eyes widen and the grip of the two boys on either side of me tighten, Ron let out a shout of outrage, and Scabior hit the floor with a sudden thud. Everyone fell silent, looking on in shock at the downed Snatcher who had landed on the floor at an awkward angle, and up at the young Death Eater who quickly span round to face his aunt, his pale face deathly serious and almost threatening.

"What?" he asked in a low, menacing voice causing my heart to damn near stop and my breath to catch in my throat, that was until I shrugged that off, convincing myself it wasn't what my infantile hormones had thought, that he wasn't doing that for me.

Bellatrix, staring at her nephew in a mixture of distaste and anger, met his glacial gaze without so much as a flinch, and as her sister and brother-in-law looked on in stunned horror at their son's reaction, spoke to him in a clipped threatening voice of her own.

"I'm keeping the Mudblood Granger here," she said, her wand held clearly in her grip and taking a few steps towards him, as though she doubted his loyalties. "Do you have a problem with that, Draco?"

"No!" Ron shouted in agony from my side as Bellatrix and Draco continued to stare at each other, neither one willing to turn away first and since Draco had yet to answer she wouldn't let him go yet. A confusing flood of emotions rushed through me as I watched his posture relax, though he still looked notably strained, and I couldn't help but frown, unable to understand how I was feeling. Though that didn't matter right now, there were more important things.

"You can have me, keep me!" Ron shouted as he fought against his bindings and Hermione tried to calm him, even though she was terrified herself.

Bellatrix was still staring dangerously at Draco, but she looked away for a spit second to shout "If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next, Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book." Before quickly turning back to the blond boy who had still yet to answer her question.

Infuriatingly, I found myself as desperate for his answer as Bellatrix was, and so couldn't begin to prevent the falling sensation that hit me when I watched him subtly shake his head, which didn't seem to be enough for Bellatrix really, as she still eyed him with distrust, but she did nothing more as this matter with the sword was obviously more important to her.

"Take them downstairs, Greyback," She said, turning her back on her nephew who, without looking at anyone, not even his horrified parents, cast the spell to levitate Scabior again "and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them – yet."

Looking as though Christmas had come early, Greyback shot Hermione and I a greedy grin, before seizing our ropes and tugging us backwards, as Bellatrix swooped forwards and cut Hermione free and in one swift movement dragged her away from us by her hair. To my right Ron was fighting desperately to get to her, shouting and thrashing violently against the restraints but Greyback thwarted his attempts easily, and as we were roughly ushered from the room I felt hopelessness lay heavy on my shoulders. Watching as my friend whimpered and struggled against Bellatrix's brutal hold I was numb with shock and horror as I fought with Ron and Harry to get to her, unwilling to let them hurt her and terrified of what might happen. But Greyback was too strong for us, despite our frantic attempts there was nothing we could do and the werewolf easily shoved us from the drawing room and down the corridor. Looking over my shoulder as he pulled us away, still fighting fiercely, the last thing I saw before the door shut behind us was Hermione's petrified face and Draco's retreating back, as he slipped out the other door.

**Author note: so there it was, chapter thirteen, what did you guy reckon, there's still more Dravy (lol) interaction to come, but what did you think to that?**

**Quick question as well guys, I have found a vidder willing to take a crack at a 'Seeing' trailer (I'm so excited) and she would like me to ask how you lot would feel about Emily Browing playing Ivy? I know that Saoirse Ronan won the poll, and this doesn't take away from that, this is just really about making the vidders job easier, as I have been quite demanding with it, lol. I think she'd be fine, but your opinions matter to me too. So what do you think?**

**Also, while I remember, I was asked a little while ago by a number of people why Harry (since he was there when Draco and Dumbledore had their showdown of sorts) didn't tell Ivy all that had been said about her. Well, the answer to that is, he did try to, in the last chapter I did say that Ivy noticed for (what was for her) some strange reason, that Harry kept trying to bring up Draco and she kept dodging the conversation, not wanting to talk about him. Getting the picture Harry gave up trying, so that's why she doesn't know. Hope that cleared things up a bit. :) x**


	15. Broken

**Disclaimer: I own none of the ideas, characters, quotes etc that can be linked to Harry Potter; they all belong to the fabulous JK Rowling.**

**Chapter fifteen: Broken**

**"How can I admit that I think about her all the time? ... or that I care about her more than anyone? How can I admit that I don't know what I'll do if any harm comes to her?" Said by Arthur in the BBC's Merlin**

**Draco**

"Confringo!" Draco Malfoy roared, snapping and aiming his wand at a carved, stone snake in the Manor courtyard and not so much as cringing when it exploded into a million pieces that shot across small space, hitting walls, statues and the cobbled ground with sharp thumps. It wasn't enough though, it couldn't satisfy this aching fury inside of him, raging through his blood and making his head spin.

Frustrated beyond measure and with his chest rising and falling visibly with the force of his erratic breathing the blond boy span around, training his wand on some of the larger stone pieces and blasting them to bits one by one, scarring the ancient cobbles with ugly black scorch marks. Draco would be severely punished for this later on, he knew that full well, but he couldn't bring himself to care, and why should he, what did a worn old statue matter to him? She was here! Trapped in his family cellar with her friends, awaiting the Dark Lord's inevitable return and certain death and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, not without revealing where his loyalty really lay and he didn't know if he could do that.

Boom! Draco took aim at a piece of the once great snake's head, one carved eye looking up at him, which had landed near his foot in the explosion. He didn't hesitate, agonised with this predicament he repeated the blasting curse again, fury gripping him tightly, so much so that he hardly felt the shards of smashed stone as they shot up at his face and body. Why couldn't she have just stayed hidden! He asked himself fervently as he turned his wand on another bit of stone, venting his emotions in the only way left to him, violent, needless destruction. Why did she have to go and get caught? He had barely been managing with things as they were before, and now she was here! With them! Enchanting him all over again and putting him in an impossible position, and there was no way out of this that he could see. Running out of fragments to shoot Draco span around agitatedly on the spot, at a complete and utter loss as he let on an enraged shout and roughly raked his free hand through his pale blond hair, the extended reason for his emotional rampage bubbling up dangerously close to the surface.

Panting heavily Draco looked desperately around the courtyard, as though the solution to this new problem would be written on the walls somewhere. However, instead of the answers he so desperately sought, all Draco saw was rubble, cold stone and the unconscious Snatchers he'd brought here but couldn't even begin to deal with. What was he going to do? He asked himself desperately as his movements slowed down but he showed no signs of calming, instead his motions became jerky and unsure, like those of a man who was lost and frantic. What could he do? There were no options available to him, he had no choice! But still, he had to do something, he couldn't just sit by and watch this happen, everything good he had ever been wouldn't allow him to, he had to help her and he knew that. But why? A dark part of Draco's mind, the part that had been all for becoming a Death Eater in the first place, asked. Why bother, she doesn't need your help, it said in a dangerous and influential voice, let her precious Potter figure out a way to save them all, he always does. Almost growling now Draco turned his head away sharply, staring downwards in hatred as the image of Ivy and Potter's entwined hands swam before his mind and jealousy reared its ugly head. He hadn't been prepared for how it felt to see them like that, such an intimate and loving gesture, it made him feel physically sick with pain and envy. Though, he supposed that he ought not to have been surprised, how long had the four of them been alone and on the run now? More than long enough for them to start to get lonely and seek comfort in each other. Agony ripped through Draco's heart then and he roughly pushed those thoughts aside, visibly cringing away from them and unable to deal with the emotions they inspired. They simply hurt too much.

Turning brusquely as though the movement alone would knock the unpleasant thoughts from his head, Draco began pacing quickly around the courtyard, trying to make sense of everything and decide on his next course of action. Only he couldn't make any kind of decision as he couldn't stop dwelling on the little things, like despite how it had been months since he last saw her, the mere sight of Ivy still caused his heart to stop still in his chest, and how the world suddenly seemed to make sense with her around. Or how, when the disgusting Snatcher had actually stuck her, Draco had had to employ every ounce of his self restraint to keep from launching himself at the vile creature and beating him senseless. Or how much it had hurt him, actually physically hurt him, to see that she hadn't kept his ring, which had been his last ditch attempt to make sure she knew that he cared about her. Again, he knew that he shouldn't have been surprised, Ivy was such an emotive soul that the ring was probably long gone, but still, it stung.

A scream suddenly broke the silence outside his frantic thoughts, echoing chillingly from the house, and he stopped, looking up at the darkened windows. He knew it wasn't her; he'd have recognized Ivy's screams anywhere and wouldn't have still been here if they were. It was her friend, Granger, who was crying out in pain from deep within the house. But still, he knew full well that it could have easily have been Ivy that Bellatrix had chosen to torture. It still could be, he couldn't help but think morbidly as he continued to stare upwards, Bellatrix had no compassion, no mercy, and as soon as she was done with Granger she would surely move on to a new victim, and who was to say that Ivy wouldn't be next? That was all it took, that one thought and a split second later he was abandoning the mess of stone and bodies in the courtyard and sprinting for the steps. He couldn't stay out here another second, this wasn't over yet, during the time Draco had been away anything could have happened and he refused, from that moment on, to leave the drawing room until this thing was finished, one way or the other. He didn't care if Ivy had moved on, or at least he would insist that he didn't, what mattered to him now was keeping her safe at all costs. Crashing through the door he took off down the corridor, running readily towards her, even as the little voice in his head asked him why he bothered.

**Ivy**

My heart was pounding loudly in my ears, a steady, ominous drum beat, building up into a crescendo as thunderous and menacing as the one that preceded the swing of the trapdoor or the thud of the axe. The song of the executioner and the condemned, that's what it sounded like, I thought almost distractedly, and that was exactly how I felt, as lost, frantic and terrified as a woman taking to the steps of the scaffolds, with my lungs sucking in desperate breaths as though they would be my last. Only, it wasn't my own life I feared for.

Anxiously I glanced from the low, thin ceiling to a frantic and agonised Ron as Hermione's tortured screams seeped downwards from the room above and he fought desperately to get to her, even though he was still firmly tied to the rest of us. Being helpless in the face of Hermione's pain was excruciating for him, I was sure I'd never seen Ron look this hysterical before, this distraught; however, he wasn't the only one suffering. From where his arm was pressed against my left hand side, I could feel Harry's furious shaking, hatred and fear rolling off him in waves which I felt as strongly as my own fury. Furthermore every single one of Hermione's cries cut deeply into my own heart, as listening to my best friend being tortured hit me repeatedly like a physical blow. We had to get out of here, I thought as my distress grew too much to bear and I looked upwards again, desperate, we had to help her, who knew what Bellatrix was doing up there. Thinking of the disgusting hag sent a rush of fierce rage through me and I struggled a little behind my restraints, though I did my best to remain calm, as deep, ferocious loathing for the woman who had killed and tortured so many, and at whose mercy my closest friend now was, had my blood boiling.

It didn't last long though, too many emotions were charging through me for me to focus on any one for too long, as the speed of my drumming heart increased rapidly my hatred for Bellatrix was overtaken by concern for Ron, which was then pushed aside by outright fear for Hermione, dread for what was to come, fury at no one in particular for us having ended up here and, ultimately, blinding rage for the other explanation for the dread in my heart. But I wouldn't let myself think about that and sternly pulled my thoughts away from HIM, even though it was almost impossible now, with him mere meters away. Being this close to him was painful, and though I said earlier that I wasn't the one awaiting a death sentence, I couldnt help but feel that wasn't exactly true, being here and waiting as he sat upstairs and decided my fate was nothing short of tortuous. I scowled furiously into the middle distance, thinking of how humiliating it had felt to stand in front of him as a weak prisoner, pathetic and at his mercy, how I had still somehow managed to be surprised by the depths he would sink to for power, horrified to learn he was a murder, and how my heart swelled at the sight of him, even as hatred wrapped around it like a hand and tried to crush the love from it. A fine line, I thought as tears of hate and pain began to sting in my eyes, blurring my already red tinted vision. I caught my thoughts then, and feeling repulsed by my emotional weakness I quickly blinked the tears from my eyes and retreated back into my denial, building up my armour once more.

"There!" Luna's relieved voice echoed through the temporary silence of the cellar, the rusty nail she was using to free us finally breaking through the rope's harsh fibbers and waking me from my deep and troubling thoughts, reminding me of the task at hand.

The ropes fell to the floor with an audible thud and Luna took a step back, however, despite this relief the harsh pressure around my waist was still as painful as ever, and I made no attempt to move from where I stood. I was too busy rebuilding my defences, and trying not to think too much about the aching in my abdomen. The boys' reaction, however, was immediate. Ron was pushing away from us before Luna had even severed the ropes properly, his love and fear for Hermione guiding him in a hopeless and frantic search for a way out of our prison. Hands desperately clawing at the cold, damp stone walls Ron scaled the perimeter, shouting out Hermione's name and almost crying in frustration. Watching him running around, illuminated by the ball of light freed from his Deluminator, I felt my heart go out to him but made no attempt to do the same myself, I couldn't bring myself to move, I was too overwhelmed by this all, with too many emotions running through me to do anything but stand there and try and manage them. Harry's reaction, meanwhile, might have been as instantaneous as Ron's but was by no means as passionate; remaining deathly and alarmingly silent, as though lost in self blame, Harry slowly walked forwards until he was a little way away from us and promptly sank to the floor, looking at and speaking to no one.

Watching my two despairing friends I felt panic flit through me, joining the throngs of other emotions drowning me as I heard Dean thank Luna for freeing us and felt rather than saw a bloody and bruised Griphook collapse onto the floor. Both Dean and the Goblin had already been badly beaten when the Snatchers found us, but Griphook seemed to have faired worse and was struggling to support himself now. What are we going to do? I asked myself looking around at the others, at Harry rummaging desperately through his moleskin pouch, at Ron sobbing as he banged hopelessly against the solid wall, at Dean knelt next to a swaying Griphook on the floor, at Luna with her gaze trained on me in an oddly trusting and optimistic way, and also at Mr Olivander, laying crumpled and broken in the corner of the room. We were all damaged here, I thought honestly even as a trickling sense of determination seeped into me, a refusal to give in that I had somehow managed to retain. I wouldn't be beaten, not here and not by him, I wouldn't let myself, we might be trapped, beaten and each of us wandless, but I refused to give in. We didn't have a cat's chance in Hell at getting out of here, it was too dangerous, and even as single-minded as I was I could see that, but to stay here and do nothing would be so much worse.

So, with my emotions poorly patched up, I took a meaningful step forwards, my face hard with determination and Luna, who still stood weak and gaunt in front of me, nodded slowly, in agreement or understanding I wasn't sure, but I appreciated the motion.

"Help us! We're in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!" Harry began to shout suddenly and frantically at what appeared to be a shard of glass in his hands, and I had barely the time to feel sympathetic and a little worried about Harry's sanity, before Hermione's screaming grew more blood curdling and more agonising than ever before. I cringed away from the horrid sound, hating this with all my might and starting to feel helpless again.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" Ron cried, jolting me from my own misery and hardening my resolve, now wasn't the time for me to be fragile and selfish, I had to be strong now, for my boys and for Hermione, they needed me.

With a fierce and desperate determination, the strength and gravity of which I had never felt before, I quickly ran across the room to Ron and seized his arms, turning him away from the wall so he was looking at me. Ron fought me ardently, trying to shake off my hold and shrilly shouting Hermione's name, but this was much too serious and I was far too firm to let him throw me off, this had to be done.

"Ron," I implored as he continued to struggle "Ron, stop this, we need to think of something, this isn't helping-" I tried but Ron was unreasonable and he was still fighting to get to Hermione, so, acting quickly and decisively, I tightened my grip on my redheaded friend with one hand and promptly withdrew the other, pulling it back before smacking Ron around the face. He stopped then. Frozen in shock Ron could only stare at me, like a man coming out of a trance, until I lent in closer and whispered "we need to help her Ron, Hermione needs us. You need to stop this."

Ron was still staring at me in disbelief, though the wheels in his head seemed to be turning as he slowly nodded his head and a troubled looked clouded his features. Feeling a bit bad for slapping him, even though it was necessary, I gave him a quick smile before gently rubbing his arm and letting go. Leaving him to deal with his emotions, or else push them dangerously into a corner as I had done with mine, I turned back around to others, finding them all watching me and noticing that Harry was on his feet and looking considerably more controlled. He shot me a meaningful look which I took to mean that he understood why I had done what I had, and that he was going to cooperate, that he was ready for action. I nodded once at him, then looked at the others, who all wore similar determined, if slightly scared, expressions and was about to say we needed to come up with a plan when a sharp, shrieking voice echoed down through the ceiling.

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix demanded frantically as a dizzying sensation rocked me a little on my feet but I batted it aside, anxious to hear what was being said "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight!" Hermione wept exhaustedly, physically drained by Bellatrix's ruthless torture and I wondered what Bellatrix was so scared about, what was in her vault to warrant this, before deciding there were more important things, like getting Hermione out of there safely. "We've never been inside your vault…it's not the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy?" Bellatrix shrieked as Harry and Ron both took a step closer to me and together we stood as one, each of us reigning in our fury and fear, staring up at the low ceiling. "Oh, a likely story!"

Swaying a bit as my eyesight went a little funny, fading disconcertingly to black and then returning to normal again, making me feel nauseous and lightheaded, a terrifying notion suddenly hit me. Oh God, I thought as I fought to stay on my feet as tiredness hit me in waves and the room began to spin, oh God not now, I can't have a vision now, it wasn't safe! I was needed! Adamant that I wouldn't give in I ignored these sensations and focused on the words drifting down from above, trying to ground myself even as the room grew darker and darker, despite how the little orb of light from the Deluminator still hovered there unchanged.

"But we can find out easily!" Lucius's voice said suddenly, speaking for the first time since we'd been brought down here, as vision sickness and light-headedness twisted my stomach. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

My stomach plummeted then and I quickly scrambled to catch it, though I was still busy trying to fight off my pending vision and desperate to maintain control even as horror seeped into me slowly, taking over me. No, I thought sternly, it doesn't matter. Let him come, I'll be standing here, waiting with my head held high, ready for him. I'm not afraid of Malfoy, in fact I've been waiting for this opportunity for months, I realised suddenly, I wasn't bound or restrained in anyway and he would be coming down here alone, at long last I could make him pay for what he did to me. Except I couldn't, I thought despite the fact that my brain was fuzzy with the effort needed to hold off my vision, I knew I couldn't make him pay like I wanted to because my friends needed me, and beating up a potentially useful Malfoy would do us no favours.

So, swaying more than only slightly, my heart pounding franticly in my chest and my mind struggling to function, I continued to fight to stay in the present, unable to afford being unconscious or disorientated when Draco Malfoy was near by. All my efforts were in vain though, my Inner Eye never did what I wanted it to and couldn't be switched off, there was nothing to be done to stop this vision, and I was vaguely aware of Harry sprinting across the room, whispering Griphook's name, as that otherworldly breeze drifted across the front of my brain. My eyes shot wide but were unseeing, my vision already having faded to black to make room for my second sight, and a gasp escaped my lips as I felt the sensation of falling and my vision took me.

When my Inner Eye opened my new surroundings were so strikingly different from the ones I had left behind that I was momentarily surprised and disorientated, and it wasn't until I got over that that I was able to take in what I saw properly. I was in a bedroom, but I could tell that I wasn't really there, I had the same sense of being invisible that I'd experienced a few times in visions and didn't doubt that no one could see me. Though, that said, there was only one person but myself in the room. Sitting on one of two single beds, looking fragile but considerably better than he did in the present, was Griphook the goblin, resting against several thick, pale blue pillows and with his eyes glancing boredly around the room, searching for something that might interest him. This vision didn't last long, it was little more than a flash and I was soon being roughly yanked from it, the scene fading from sight as my Inner Eye closed and I was suddenly thrown back into the thick of our current nightmare.

Gasping loudly I took a deep, shaky breath, sucking in a lungful of air to reawaken all my stunned systems, to get oxygen where it was needed. I wasn't surprised to find myself on the damp cellar floor, though I was embarrassed and annoyed with myself for falling, thinking that I needed to have better control of myself during visions. However, I was a little surprised to find Harry by my side, resting my head in his lap, since he had been across the room with Griphook before.

"…You mustn't tell them the sword is a fake," Harry was whispering pleadingly from where he knelt with me, as I raised an unsteady and unusually weightily hand to the ache on my forehead. My breath hissed out as soon as my finger tips made contact with my skin and I quickly withdrew my hand, my reflexes re-sharpening with the shock. Argh, I thought, as the lump throbbed painfully, proving that I had fallen face first and as I was now laid on my back that Harry must have turned me over.

Ron, who was watching me anxiously from a short distance away, let out a breath of relief as he watched me move, clearly having been worried and making me more than a little concerned as to what I had been doing in my vision state.

"They mustn't know it's the real one," Harry continued as I focused on a wooden beam overhead, trying to make the room stop spinning so that I could sit up and do my part "Griphook, please-"

"Stand back." A thick, hoarse voice commanded from the other side of the door, sending bolts of electricity up and down my body and causing my eyes to shoot wide open, even though I was expecting him. "Line up against the back wall." Draco Malfoy said in a voice that was both sharp and reluctant "Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!"

**Draco**

Fighting his increasingly frantic protective urges, Draco forced himself to slow down as he neared the drawing room, not wanting to make his family suspicious by bursting into like a mad man but barely able to restrain himself. His overactive imagination had concocted a thousand nasty scenarios, involving Ivy, that he might return to and he had whipped himself up into a fine frenzy. Pausing in front of the slick oaken doors only to take a deep, shuddering breath, Draco wrapped a sweaty hand around the polished handle and threw open the drawing room doors, striding into the room as calmly as he could. The sight that awaited him there wasn't pretty and while it was nowhere near as bad as he had imagined, Draco still felt his stomach roll and cast his glacial eyes upwards, at his agitated aunt, to avoid looking at the scene too closely.

Bellatrix, looking every inch the crazed madwoman Draco was sure she was, was standing tall above Granger, who lay collapsed and sobbing desperately into the carpet at her feet. His aunt looked troubled, like she was contemplating something; her dark eyebrows were drawn tightly together and she was staring off to the side. Draco's father, meanwhile, appeared to be having an epiphany as, ignoring the traumatised girl completely, he stepped forwards excitedly, his grey eyes fixed intently on his son, as they had been ever since Draco returned. Draco was warily of this, and standing a little taller he kept his expression neutral, even as he worried over what they were to ask of him.

"But we can find out easily," Lucius told Bellatrix, who turned to look at her brother-in-law, only to find him still watching his son, who hadn't a clue what they were talking about but knew he wouldn't like it. "Draco," he said and Draco felt no surprise, his father was always trying to elevate Draco through the Death Eater ranks, despite Draco's reluctance to do so, and whatever his father had thought of was clearly an opportunity to do just that. "Fetch the goblin, he can tell us if the sword is real or not."

Draco, who hadn't even been aware that issue of the sword's authenticity was up for debate, couldn't stop himself from recoiling. Go down into the cellar? Where Ivy was? Draco didn't think so, she'd kill him, he had no doubt, and he couldn't bear for her hatred to be the last thing he ever saw. He refused, God how she'd loath him for it if he did, snatching up a beaten, defenceless goblin and taking him to be tortured by Death Eaters, it would confirm all her suspicions about him when he wanted so desperately to prove them false. Then again, Draco thought, if he went down there he would be able to see what state she was in, to see how she was…aw Hell, why deny it! He'd be able to get another glance at her, and who knew how many of chances at that he would get again. Well aware that his expression must be quite a picture, some horrific cross between fear and contemplation, and that his parents and aunt were all watching him questioningly, not understanding why he was still here, why he hadn't ran off immediately to complete this task.

"Draco?" his mother asked worriedly, coming away from the fireplace and reaching out for him, with bright blue eyes that seemed to see right to his very core, a thought with terrified him.

"Perhaps you thought it was optional," Bellatrix snapped irritably and Draco's lost expression flicked away from his worried mother, to glare at his aunt instead. "Let me assure you that it is not! Get down there and bring us the goblin, or I shall make sure when the Dark Lord arrives to punish us, you shall be the first he sees!"

"Bellatrix!" Narcissa cried, appalled that her sister had had the audacity to threaten her son. But Bellatrix ignored Narcissa and kept her dark, menacing gave fixed firmly on Draco, who met her stare with an iced one of his own, refusing to appear the weak one but knowing it was dangerous to challenge or refuse her. Which was exactly what he was doing, because he couldn't go down there, not now.

"Go, Draco," Lucius said, stepping in-between the furious pair, surprised that it had come to a standoff, as while erratic displays of rage were normal for Bellatrix, it was unusual for Draco to be anything other than calm.

Understanding that he had no choice, even as indignation pumped through his veins at what he was being made to do, Draco promptly turned and strode out of the room, holding Bellatrix's hostile gaze until the very last second out of defiance. Slamming the drawing room door behind him, in an infantile show of rage that he didn't care about, Draco stormed down the darkened corridor, heading towards the cellar door and hating his current position. He was Draco Malfoy, he had managed to do the impossible, to get Death Eaters into Hogwarts to kill its Headmaster, he was a Death Eater himself (reluctant though he may be), he was no ones whipping boy and if he didn't want to do something he didn't ought to have to. Even as he thought this, consumed by his rage, Draco knew this wasn't the real reason for his anger, he could tell by the beating of his heart, the speed of which was increasing steadily in fear and anticipation for what waited bellow. It didn't take him two minutes the reach his destination, thought Draco wished it had taken him longer, in next to no time he was standing humiliatingly anxiously outside the cellar door. He could hear almost nothing from inside the room, only muffled talking, and so, heart in his throat, he turned the lock and shouted.

"Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!"

The threat was an empty one; he knew that despite the fury that prompted it, and the desire to be taken seriously by the captives where he wasn't by his fellows, and he regretted it almost instantly.

"Do as he says," Ivy's voice called clearly from the other side of the door, sarcastic but still alarmingly faint "we all know the atrocities Death Eaters are capable of." She said furiously, hissing out the words 'Death Eaters' and clawing at Draco's heart with her harsh words.

Though he didn't want to, though he'd much sooner just turn around and pretend he had never come here, Draco reached for the handle and unwillingly he pushed the door open a little, pausing as the beam of light from dim light in the hall illuminated the gloomy room. It didn't matter that Draco had no right to feel the way he did next, that he had no claim over her at all, no reason to react as he did, he could not help his feelings. The battered organ in his chest, the one he thought he'd lost long ago, was suddenly and cruelly pulled from him, the fragile vessels that held it in place ripping in the most agonising way. For what he saw there, was more than a man in his position could be expected to bear. Potter, the Golden Boy, the Chosen One, the world's most infuriating do-gooder and his much hated enemy, was standing there, bold as brass, helping Ivy to her feet with a supportive arm around her waist and holding onto her other hand so she could rise herself. Fury, the likes of which Draco had never felt before, jealousy in its most extreme form, erupted inside of him then, coating his insides like a lava that burned everything, burned him and stoked his rage further. He could have killed Potter in that instant, he was sure of it, he had his wand, he was angry enough, HE had Ivy, but for some reason Draco managed to restrain himself, to show none of the murderous rage bubbling inside of him, he kept it all hidden and his expression surprisingly neutral.

As Draco stared at Ivy from the open doorway, still suppressing the urge to curse Potter, he was suddenly struck by how different she looked. Not physically, she still had the same elegant beauty as before, but she was changed, somehow. It was in her demeanour, he realised, it had changed entirely. Gone was her dry wit and playfulness, replaced by a look of deep hatred a thousand times stronger than any she had ever given him before. Draco was used to Ivy looking at him loathingly, they'd clashed often enough a school for him to know what her furious face looked like, but this was different, it made her old scowls look like a child's face pulling and there was real fury behind her expression. Her defined jaw was tightly clenched, pointing slightly upwards as she looked down at him with an expression of unwavering disgust, a haughty look so powerful Draco was sure that even his mother would be proud to call it her sneer. Only this look didn't stem from pride, but rather from hatred the likes of which the wearer had never felt before. Her big brown eyes, hard as stones, were fixed fast upon him though they quivered in their sockets. Draco might have thought that this was because of fear or softness on Ivy's part, were it not for her clenching fists by her sides. It was obvious that Ivy was struggling to control herself, but not for any reasons that were good for him, for evidently she was fighting to keep herself from launching herself at him and beating him senseless. Draco was sure that she very much wanted to give into these urges, but he also knew she knew attacking him would do her and her friends no good, so she restrained herself.

Potter and Weasley stood as stern sentries at either side of her, shooting him death stares that rivalled Ivy's, but couldn't quite compete with the ferociousness of hers. He paid them little or no attention though, except to notice that Potter kept an arm around Ivy long after she was back on her feet. Wounded, but too proud to show it, he turned away from them, refusing to meet their gazes again he quickly sought out the goblin, thinking he might as well get on with his task and wishing he'd fought harder against coming down here. It doesn't hurt, that stubborn voice insisted, you don't care that she's with Potter now, she's just a Muggleborn, a Gryffindor and your enemy, she doesn't matter. But Draco couldn't lie to himself, the anguish working its way through him, almost crippling him with its agonising strength, was too much proof of how he really felt to deny it. He still fought on though, determined not to let anyone see how much this hurt him and to play the part he had to play, to be the bastard they all thought he was, he might as well. So, snatching hold of the goblin's arm he yanked it as roughly as he could and dragged the creature up out of the cellar without another word. He did pause in the doorway, giving one last glance over his shoulder that he was sure must have betrayed some of his emotions, however, he doubted anyone saw. All that he could see, as he stared back over his shoulder, was Ivy, her eyes swimming with tears and an angry expression in place as she looked up at Draco, her jaw still set, her chest rising and falling visibly, distractingly, and a look on her face that clearly said, 'you wont get away with this'.

"Monster." She breathed in what almost disbelief, loud enough for Draco to hear and for her companions to look at her in shock. Her composure had cracked and though she was repairing it, Draco could see that his punishing of an innocent had pushed her to her limits.

He turned away then, his tousled blond hair falling in front of his eyes as he went to drag the limp goblin into the corridor and shut the door behind him, regretting this and hating his aunt for making him do this more than he could ever say.

"I know," he whispered as the door clicked shut behind him.

**Ivy**

The cellar was plunged mercifully back into darkness as soon as the first of my heavy tears fell, flowing finally from the damn that had just burst in my heart. Months and months had passed since I last saw him and I had naively thought that I was getting over what he had done, moving on, but here I am, and after just two encounters with him I am reduced to this, a distraught and broken mess. Seeing him had hit home with me, and while I felt weak and stupid for crying over it I couldn't help it, it still stung to see him and to witness what he had become. On top of that though, watching as Malfoy dragged Griphook, an innocent, away to be tortured, without as so much as batting an eyelid, in addition to reminding me of what a massive trusting idiot I had once been, also reminded me of the hopelessness of our situation. Trapped in the Malfoy's cellar, guarded by Death Eaters from the upstairs and with Voldermort on the way, just like what they were doing to Hermione, their punishing of Griphook reminded me that there was no limits to the atrocities these people would commit to get what they wanted, that they had no morals. It frightened me again, though I had been trying to be strong about the whole thing, and suddenly couldn't stop the genuine fear that gripped at me and consumed my emotions. But not my thoughts, HE still had those, no matter how I tried to otherwise occupy them, and here, faced with all that had transpired, I couldn't get his betrayal out of my head. I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel any more, I thought as tears streamed down my cheeks, if I ever had really seen it, wasn't there a way out of this after all? Would this torment never end?

I had to be strong though, I thought with some determination, there wasn't time now for sensitiveness, yes it still hurt me to see him, especially when he was acting the Death Eater, but I had put on a brave face for now and help get my friends out of here, to get us to safety. So, in the time between Draco shutting the door on us and Ron clicking the Deluminator again, I had already wiped away my tears and was turning to the others to decide what to do. However, when light returned to the cellar we found that we weren't alone any more, that Dobby the House Elf had apparated out of nowhere while it had been dark. I hadn't even heard the distinctive crack that accompanied apparation; I was so lost in thought.

"DOB-!" Ron started to exclaim only to take the hint and shut up when he was hit on -the arm by Harry and shushed by me. Cautious we all listened for a moment, hearing Draco leading Griphook across the room above and deciding that they hadn't heard, the now apologetic, Ron's mistake. This could be our chance, our escape.

"Harry Potter," Dobby squeaked in a tiny voice as he looked from Harry to the ceiling above, beyond which gathered his old masters and causing me to notice he was shaking visibly in fear, and, as consumed as I was with my own situation, my heart still went out to Dobby. I knew how he felt, to some extent anyway.

Silently I stepped towards the trembling elf, bending down, taking his little hand in mine and holding it tightly, supporting, as I jumped at the chance to preoccupy myself with someone else's problems. Dobby looked relieved and smiled at me.

"Oh, thank you Ivy Jones," he said in appreciation and I just smiled at him, letting him know it was no trouble and Dobby turned to Harry then "Dobby has come to rescue you."

Harry, Ron and I shared a look then, surprised but each of us thinking, seeing a chance here and about to take it.

"But how did you-?" Harry started to ask but Hermione's screaming picked up again and he stopped as each of us flinched at the sound, Hermione's torture had resumed and we couldn't wait, she needed us. So Harry got right down to the point.

"You can disapparate out of this cellar?" Harry asked Dobby quickly, who nodded eagerly, still toying with his Hogwarts kitchens uniform and looking worriedly upwards.

"And you can take humans with you?" Harry asked and again Dobby nodded, saying that he could. Knees aching I went to rise, still holding Dobby's hand as he needed the support, and once I was on my feet I felt another sudden wave of dizziness hit me, and would have choked it up to standing up too quickly if I hadn't known better. I was having another vision, I knew it.

"Right. Dobby," Harry said as I slowly sat myself down just as I started to feel nauseous, I wanted to warn them what was going to happen but couldn't bring myself to, Harry was talking and this was important, my vision might not be. "I want you to grab Luna, Dean and Mr Olivander, and take them – take them to-"

"Bill and Fleur's," Ron suggested as I felt myself start to sway where I sat and cursed the timing of my visions. "Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!"

My vision took me then; I saw and heard no more as that oh-so irritating other worldly breeze swept across the front of my brain, blowing everything else away and opening my Inner Eye. Colour exploded in front of me, stemming from the impenetrable darkness that preceded by visions and making me gasp at the sheer brilliance of it. I wasn't in the cellar any more; instead I was standing in a gargantuan room, the likes of which I had never seen before, with high ceilings and sheer, slick walls. But that wasn't all; the room was filled from wall to wall with gold. Coins, cups, tiaras, armour, all of it valuable and glittering in the wand light along with the many brightly coloured jewels dotted amongst the gold. It was stunning, though not in the way that you might expect, standing before this great fortune I didn't feel excited or proud, instead I felt anxious and fearful, I didn't like being here, I had a ominous feeling about the place and I just wanted to leave, but I knew that we couldn't, that we had to do this. And then my vision changed, and suddenly, I wasn't in the great, treasury any more, I was running frantically down a long stone tunnel, footsteps echoing loudly off the damp walls but I didn't care about that, I just ran, faster than I ever have in my life and with my breath coming out in pants. Hair billowing behind me, I knocked a strand that had stuck to my sweaty face away, and looked forwards, feeling my heart swell with fear at the sight that awaited me there, a magnificent, pale white dragon laid ahead of us down the tunnel, its great black eyes trained carefully on us.

"Ivy?" Ron's voice asked fearfully from above me as I surfaced abruptly from my vision, choking in a breath and feeling incredibly disorientated as I looked up at all these worried faces framed against the dark cellar room.

"What did you See?" Luna asked and as I tried to get my bearings once again I noticed Harry and Ron looking at me anxiously, listening closely, desperate for my news.

"This time?" I asked in a thin raspy voice even as I tried to sit up, despite my dizziness, with Dobby's help as he gripped my elbow. "A dragon," I said, still in shock my self at that, and unable to work out what on Earth could have been happening there "and a room full of gold, I-" I said frowning and putting a hand to my head as though that might help me make sense of things "I don't know what it means though."

I watched from the floor as Ron visibly paled at the thought of a dragon, and mouthed the word in a frightened manner to no one in particular, as he knew better than to exclaim that, as it would help no one. Everyone else looked suitably alarmed as well, but they all kept quiet until.

"And the last time?" Harry asked and I shook my head, trying to remember.

"I saw Griphook, lying on a bed and looking on the mend." I told them and they all looked a touch relieved.

"Well," Luna said hopefully "that's good news then."

"I hope so," I half agreed, reluctant to say that it out loud, in case I jinxed it, because everything seemed so far out of our control now.

However, the others still looked uneasy and Hermione was still screaming, so I decided that we needed to move on, and sitting up a little taller I said "Right, what were you saying, Harry? Before I rudely interrupted."

For a moment Harry looked confused and distracted, then Hermione let out a particularly anguished scream and he got back down to planning "Right," he said turning to face Dobby again "after you've dropped the others there, come back for the rest of us. Can you do that Dobby?" Harry asked intently sounding very much like a leader, but also leaving room for Dobby to say no if he felt he couldn't do something.

"Of course Harry Potter," Dobby said quietly, as though afraid the Malfoy's might hear him, and with another anxious glance at the ceiling he hurried off towards Mr Olivander, took the old man's hand and held out the other for Luna and Dean, who looked reluctant.

"Harry, we want to help you!" Luna whispered determinedly, looking between the three of us and standing tall.

"We cant leave you here," Dean agreed from by her side, but all of us knew there was no way that they could stay, that it was safer to get them out of here now and that less people reduced the likelihood of a repeat capture.

Silent for a moment, and looking down at the ground in what appeared to be pain, which worried Ron and I, Harry suddenly exclaimed "Go!" at Luna and Dean desperately "Go! We'll follow you, just go!"

Seeing Harry's anxiety and at my nodding of agreement, they joined hands, Luna took Dobby's in her own, and then, quick as a flash and with a loud crack, the four of them had vanished. For a moment I felt relieved, glad that they, at least, were out of harms way now, however that didn't last long as a suspicious voice echoed from upstairs.

"What was that?" Lucius Malfoy asked, alarmed by the cracking sound "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"

Harry, Ron and I looked at each other then, knowing that this was were it got really serious, that the next few minuets were of vital importance, and so, slipping into sombre moods, we went onto high alert.

"Got a plan?" I whispered as I got to my feet and headed for the boys.

"Draco – no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!" Bellatrix instructed from above and once again footsteps could be heard above us as one of their number went to retrieve the aforementioned traitor. But other than that the drawing room had fallen silent, and Harry lifted his finger to his lips to indicate we should do the same.

"We're going to have to try and tackle him," Harry whispered to us both when we were close enough, at a loss as to what else we could do "Ivy you stay back-"

"Like Hell I will!" I exclaimed in a low voice, not about to leave them to do this on their own.

"She's right mate," Ron told Harry as quietly as he could, barely a breath "we'll need her." and Harry agreed quickly, knowing Ron and I were right. We wouldn't have had the time to discus it any more any way, as at that moment the sound of someone's heavy footsteps plodding down the steps outside could be heard and we knew it was Wormtail.

"Leave the lights on," Harry told Ron, who had been pulling out his Deluminator, and together we readied our selves, Harry going to stand against the wall at one side of the door and Ron and I at the other.

"Stand back," Wormtail ordered wheezily from behind the wood "stay away from the door. I am coming in."

Then the door was thrown open and for a moment Wormtail stood in the doorway, unable to see anything in the room but the floating balls of light from the Deluminator, and then he received the shock of his life when the three of us leapt out. Working together we each sought to restrain Wormtail, Ron forcing Pettigrew's wand away from us, aiming it upwards and trying to wrestle it from his grip, though the rat put up a good fight and refused to let go. Harry, meanwhile, took Pettigrew's silver arm, twisting it behind his back and struggling with the unnatural strength of the hand forged by Dark Magic. And as the boys were doing this I quickly slapped my hand over Wormtail's mouth, to prevent our old friend from calling for help, and seized hold of his collar to make restraining him easier. We struggled like this, with Wormtail trying to throw us off, squirming in our grip and shooting sparks of light out of his wand, and us fighting desperately to subdue him, until Wormtail somehow managed to break free of Harry's grip. I didn't know what was happening at first, being too busy keeping Pettigrew's mouth covered to see, but I couldn't miss the unmistakable sounds of Harry choking. Alarmed I looked to the side, still fighting Wormtail, and saw that the metallic hand was wrapped around Harry's throat, cutting off his air supply.

"Harry!" I exclaimed as quietly as I could as Lucius Malfoy called down for news and Ron imitated Wormtail's voice and assured him all was fine. However, Harry paid no attention to me as he was focusing wholly on Wormtail, his dark green eyes cold and disapproving.

"You're going to kill me?" he somehow managed to choke out as he clawed at the hand around his neck and I reached out with my free hand to do the same "After I saved your life? You owe me, Wormtail!"

And then something unexpected happened, something none of us had thought would happen, Wormtail actually let go, all of us, including Wormtail himself, were stunned and we could only look at him in disbelief. Glancing down at his hand in shock, his expression clearly saying that he was terrified by what had just happened, Wormtail quickly began to struggle against us again, as though ashamed by his small act of mercy. No matter what though, Harry, Ron and I refused to let go.

"And we'll have that," Ron said quietly, but triumphantly as he snatched Pettigrew's wand from his grip and held it away as Wormtail struggled, his eyes going wide in honest to God fear for reasons that I couldn't fathom, that was until I looked down.

Wormtail's metal arm was moving on its own accord again, eerily reaching for its owner's throat with flexing fingers; however, I didn't notice this until they were already constricting Pettigrew's throat. Harry shouted out, appalled and not hesitating in his attempts to save Pettigrew, feeling keenly the unjustness and the sickness of this, that this should happen to Wormtail just for one act of kindness, Ron and I were quickly helping Harry to try and prise the fingers off. There was nothing we could do though; Wormtail was being strangled right in front of us by his so-called reward for serving his master, which was too powerful for even all of us to stop. Turning steadily purple Wormtail lost the will to fight any more, and with Harry, Ron and I still trying desperately to save him, the older wizard's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed on the floor to the soundtrack of Hermione's screaming. Feeling sick with regret, upset and yet more hate for the cowards upstairs, who had been too afraid to come down here themselves and see to us, and for Voldermort who concocted these punishments for goodness, I looked down at Pettigrew's unmoving form with the others.

We couldn't stay here any more though, we had to get going and the boys were already moving to head upstairs while I was still transfixed on Wormtail's body, feeling hurt by his death even though I had never, ever liked the man. It was still a death, still a murder, and as a human being a felt his loss keenly. However, Harry and Ron, as gently as they could, hurried my disgusted and fuming self along and together we took to the stairs and headed off to save our friend. Sneaking quietly but quickly we crept down the corridor and back towards the drawing room, when we reached it each of us cautiously looked through the crack between the door and the frame, spotting Griphook standing in front of Bellatrix with the sword, and Hermione laying on the floor beside her. Hermione looked terrible, frighteningly, she wasn't moving as far as I could see and that filled me up with a fury and had me wanting to charge in there and make Bellatrix sorry, but a rational part of my brain managed to stop me. I couldn't see any of the Malfoy's, which was a blessing and a curse in one, but I didn't get to think too much about that as Bellatrix was speaking again.

"Well?" she snapped at Griphook "Is it the true sword of Gryffindor?" Waiting with bated breath we all listened anxiously to see if Griphook would do as Harry asked, if he would help us.

"No," Griphook said with the air of an informed professional, which I supposed that he was "it is a fake."

"Are you sure?" Bellatrix asked half excited, half frantic, and desperate for there to be no mistakes "Quite sure?"

"Yes," the Goblin affirmed and the relief on Bellatrix's face was visible, her entire demeanour relaxed and her expression returned to one of sick amusement.

"Good," she said and with a disinterested flick of her wand she carved a deep gash in Griphook's face, just for the sheer fun of it, and he dropped to the floor in agony. As she laughed maliciously the boys had to actively fight to restrain me, so furious was I at the crazy bitch in the drawing room.

"And now," she continued, striding proudly away from Griphook and tossing back the sleeves of her robes "we can call the Dark Lord." And before anyone could say a word against it, she touched her finger to the grotesque mark on her arm and Harry doubled over in agony, holding onto his forehead, and I knew she had summoned him, that he was really coming. Fear as chilling as an iceberg slipped into my heart and I could only stand there in horror as Bellatrix turned on Hermione again.

"And I think," She said eagerly "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOOO!" Ron cried passionately before charging into the room before either of us could stop him, Wormtail's wand trained on Bellatrix and her own aimed at Ron. Harry and I needed no further persuading, standing by our friend and desperate to get Hermione back ourselves, we quickly followed after him.

"Expelliarmus!" Ron yelled too fast and too ardently for Bellatrix to block, knocking the dark haired psycho's wand from her hand and into Harry's outstretched fingers.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted as Draco, Lucius, Narcissa and Greyback rounded on us, though there was little they could do as Harry's spell stuck Lucius and he fell unconscious to the floor.

Unarmed and furious, there was little of use I could do, so stood readily between Harry and Ron I waited for one of them to get me a wand, until the remaining Malfoy's, including Draco, and Greyback, took aim at us. Harry dived out of the way and behind a sofa to avoid being hit, Ron however, didn't move, too consumed by his fear for Hermione. So acting on my protective impulses I quickly ran and pushed Ron and myself to safety behind a table, which I overturned to provide protection. Crouching behind the table, as spells blasted into it, weakening its strength and causing the both of us to cringe, I had to grab hold of my friend's hand to keep him from running out to his death when Bellatrix shouted.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

The room fell silent. Heart stopping in fear I looked from a stricken Ron to Harry, who I could see from his hiding place behind the sofa, and together the three of us peered around our protections and saw Hermione, supported purely by Bellatrix's grip, as our beaten friend was unconscious, and with the tip of a sharp dagger held to her throat by her captive.

"Drop your wands and come out," Bellatrix threatened "do it, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Ron stood in an instant and Harry and I weren't far behind him, we couldn't risk Hermione's life and Bellatrix was already drawing blood. Casting aside their wands, the boys raised their hands. Doing the same I made no effort to disguise my scowl, staring out loathingly at the Malfoy's and other Death Eaters, at Draco who once again looked impassive, his wand held loosely by his side. I didn't want to give in, it went so far against the grain to do so, but I had no say in this matter, Bellatrix was in control.

"Good," she said snidely, still holding the knife to Hermione's neck "Draco, Narcissa," she snapped at the mother and son quickly. "Pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"

Desperately frightened now I had to try very hard not to show it, Voldermort was on his way, and here we were wandless, surrounded and defenceless. We were as good as dead if we didn't do something soon. Focusing all my efforts on looking harsh and disapproving as Draco approached us, while his mother snatched up the wand Harry had been using, I thought franticly, trying to come up with some kind of plan to get us out of here but coming up with nothing. At a frustrating and potentially lethal loss I struggled to control my emotions, furious and fearful as Draco neared, but managing to maintain my disgusted look. Whatever I had hoped to achieve by that failed, however, as Draco kept his gaze on the ground as he approached us and snatched up the wand. My former friend didn't even look up at me as he rose to his feet again; he hid behind his long blond fringe as he quickly returned to where he had been standing. But I never took my gaze off him, hard and unforgiving as it was, not even for a second; I was determined to get him to look at me.

"Now," Bellatrix said as she turned to face her sister "Cissy, I think we should tie these little hero's up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback; after all you have done today. In fact," she said turning to look at me, as I seethed with rage but refused to meet her gaze "he may even let you have the other one, when he's finished with her."

Fear crashed into me again, fear for Hermione, fear for myself, but that was all forgotten in the instant that followed her words, as Draco suddenly looked up, his blue eyes filled with something fierce, burning there steadily. I couldn't look away; I was transfixed on his ferocious expression until an unusual squeaking sound echoed from overhead, and even then I didn't avert my gaze, I continued to stare at Draco almost in a trance, with him staring back at me, until the chandelier abruptly fell. I was shocked from whatever dream I was in when the great crystal fixture crashed to the floor, missing Bellatrix, who had dived out of the way in time, but falling onto Hermione and Griphook, who were both in no fit state to move. Shards shot in every direction, pinging against ornaments and thudding against the walls, I quickly raised my arm to protect myself but across the room they weren't as lucky. Narcissa ducked to cover herself in time, dashing out of the way of the falling fixture, dropping both her wand and Bellatrix's wand as she did. Draco however, wasn't quick enough and received a face full of crystal.

Immediately I was running towards him, numb to the reason why as I sprinted around the overturned table and stumbled over the delicate fallen shards. I was aware of Harry and Ron moving as well as I ran, of Ron hurrying to Hermione's side to pull her from the wreckage, and Harry dashing towards Narcissa to take back the wand, but I didn't pay that much attention, I was too focused on my own destination. As I skidded to a stop in front of him Draco lifted his bloody face and for a second I just stood there, unsure about why I had been so desperate to get to him and what to do next. However, under his questioning and somewhat alarmed stare the rational part of my brain kicked in and I promptly snatched the wands from his grip, he was too stunned to put up much of a fight. And standing there, suddenly with two wands at my disposal, it didn't take long for the vengeful part of my personality to rear its ugly head. Suddenly feeling wronged and betrayed all over again, my jaw set in fury and my veins humming with the same, I quickly raised my arm and pointed both wands at Malfoy, ready and able to extract my revenge. Oddly, Draco didn't look surprised, his eyes widened for a split second but it wasn't in shock, just a knee jerk reaction, in fact his expression behind the blood was very resigned, as though he expected and accepted as much. That threw me, but I didn't lower my wands, I kept them trained firmly on him, even as something wavered inside of me and I was suddenly filled with reluctance. Looking at him, all bloodied and pathetic, but at the same time accepting what I was about to do…I don't know, it didn't feel right to me…I couldn't do it, and I was just about to give in and lower my wands when a cry echoed from behind me and I reflexively turned, catching sight of Harry standing over an unconscious Greyback and holding two wands of his own.

"Dobby!" Narcissa screeched in disbelief as she spotted Dobby standing defiantly in the doorway. "You! You dropped the chandelier-?"

Shaking his finger at his former mistress Dobby walked proudly into the room, and I felt myself fill a little with satisfaction at the sight of him, standing up to his old oppressors at last, and listened as he said "You must not hurt Harry Potter."

"You dirty little monkey!" Bellatrix shrilled, stalking towards her sister but staring at the elf. "How dare you attack your masters?"

"Dobby has no master," the elf said with confidence "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

Full of courage and inspired by Dobby's performance, I quickly turned back to face Draco, who hadn't moved an inch since I had turned and at who my wands were still pointed. Taking one long look at him, which he retuned almost steadily, but with his blue eyes dancing in their sockets, I pointedly withdrew the wands, turning away from him and barely catching the look of outright shock on his face. I didn't have the time to relish that though or to muddle over why I had spared him though.

"GO!" Harry cried, sounding pained and I knew that Voldermort was coming, that we had to go.

Taking off at a run I sprinted across the wreckage of the room, spotting Ron supporting Hermione a little way ahead and feeling the need to protect them. "Ron catch!" I shouted, throwing the spare wand, I wasn't sure whose, just as he turned. Ron caught it awkwardly but caught it none the less, and together we resumed running. Reaching Dobby just as Harry, who was carrying Griphook, did, Ron seized Dobby's hand while Dobby took hold of Harry's shirt and I reached out for Harry's spare hand. However, absorbed completely in getting out of here I didn't realise that Narcissa Malfoy, furious at my treatment of her son, had snatched up her husbands wand and was training it on me, not until her cold clear voice echoed out through the drawing room, standing out even above the noise.

"Impedimenta!" She cried just as Harry's grip on my fingers loosened as he adjusted Griphook in his arms.

"GO!" Harry cried again but it was too late, Narcissa's spell hit me full force in the back and I fell, a gasp of pain escaping my lips and my fingers slipping from Harry's, just as Dobby, unaware I was hit, span quickly.

Hitting the ground with a great thud and smacking my head on the floor for the second time that day, I saw stars, my world went black but returned to me long enough for me to stare, my stomach plummeting horrifically in fear, at the spot where my friends had been. Then Bellatrix's crazed voice echoed in my ears, my vision swam again and I could no longer keep my head up, cheek thumping against the prickly carpet I could see no more.

"Avada-!" I heard someone begin to scream but must have missed the end of the spell while I was drifting in and out of consciousness, as I didn't hear it. This is it; I thought dazedly, logically, I am going to die. There was no way out of this.

"NOOOOOO!" I heard someone, a vaguely familiar someone, roar in outright terror, but there was nothing they could do either, and I felt no more.

**Author note: Ta da! What do you think? I really hope it's living up to your expectations and I'm sorry this took me so long; it's been a busy week. I've got a few notices if you can spare a moment, but I'm very excited by these so I hope you give them a read.**

**As you all probably know by now, I have asked a lovely vidder to make a trailer for 'Seeing', well, great news, work on that has now begun! So hopefully it won't be too long until that's finished. However, I need your help with something. In order to make the trailer that bit clearer, I wanted to have voice over's involved for Ivy as well as the other characters, but, as Ivy is an OC that has caused a bit of a problem. So here's my question. Are there any budding actresses out there (preferably with decent recording equipment) who are interested in doing Ivy's voice over parts? We might not end up doing this, if it is too hard or if no one wants the part, but I thought it was a nice idea, and wondered if any of you would be interested, since I'm no actress! Anyway, if you'd like to give it a shot let me know…oh, and I could do with a younger one of you to maybe do 11 year old Ivy's bit in the trailer, if anyone's interested.**

**Thanks for reading :) x**


	16. Persecution and Protection

**Author note: another long one guys, but hopefully it's worth it :)**

**Chapter sixteen: Persecution and Protection**

**"Grief is the price we pay for love" - Elizabeth II**

**Ivy**

It was cold, that was the first thing I noticed as awareness slowly trickled back to me, a heavy chill lay about me like a blanket, making me shiver and numbing my skin in places. I ached too, everything hurt and throbbed, especially my back and forehead, both of which pulsed with an angry pain that I couldn't shift. I felt so mixed-up, so confused. It took a long moment for me to realise that I was lying down, but with that understanding came little comfort and a sharp pain from my forehead, the beginnings of a headache, and I didn't want to think any more. Keeping my eyes tightly shut as a hiss of pain escaped my lips, I squirmed a little where I lay, wanting to return to the numb, peaceful state I had been in earlier but unable to, too many thoughts were clamouring for my attention. The most pressing of which I couldn't ignore, what had happened, and where was I? Reluctantly I opened my eyes, expecting a great shock of light that would have me flinching with its contrast to the darkness I was now used to, but what I actually saw surprised me more. Darkness: thick, seemingly impenetrable and stretching out in every direction. Alarmed I quickly sat up, pulling my cheek away from what appeared to be a cold stone floor, and was mildly surprised to find my hands tied together by a length of rope, however, in my bewildered sate I thought little of that, though it did add somewhat to my confusion. Looking around worriedly I couldn't see anything and I was swaying a little from having sat up too fast. But, relatively patiently, as patient as anyone who has woken up in a strange place can be, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the lack of light, hoping that would reveal more.

But when things finally cleared a little, and I was able to make out one or two of the distant ancient stone walls, and a few dark shapes which upon closer inspection turned out to be support beams, I was no less confused. Heart rate increasing rapidly in fear I continued to look around and wracked my sore brain for an explanation as to how I had gotten here, and then, suddenly, it all came back to me. Being caught by the Snatchers in the tent, them bringing us here, being locked in the cellar, THIS cellar, finding Luna and Mr Olivander, them escaping with Dobby, us going to save Hermione, seeing Malfoy, and being hit by the spell, the spell shot by Narcissa Malfoy that had prevented me from fleeing with my friends. All that and everything in-between came flooding back to me and I felt twice as afraid as I had when I was disorientated. Oooohh, shhhhiiit, I thought drawing my knees up close and raking my fingers, awkwardly what with me being bound, through my hair. I'm stuck here, on my own, with THEM, with Voldermort on his way. I was trembling now, the mere thought of that invoking fear the likes of which I had rarely felt, but somehow I managed to swallow it down, and reducing my shakes to a minor tremor I put on a brave face and began to feel around for the nail Luna had used earlier to break our ties. As I felt around blindly in the dark, trying with all my might to contain my terror, I tried to focus on other things, on something else that was pressing on my thoughts. What had happened right before I passed out?

I could remember Narcissa jinxing me, could still feel the after effects of that jinx, and I could remember falling and smacking my head on the floor as clear as day, but I was sure that I could also remember Bellatrix shouting the killing curse at me. In fact, I was certain that I heard her say the curse, but if that was the case then what was I still doing here, Bellatrix wasn't well known for her poor aim or compassion, how could it be that I was still alive? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, though these weren't exactly the best circumstances to wake up to and who knew how long I actually had left, it just didn't make sense. However, thinking about it was too taxing for my sore temples, and it was only making my headache worse, so I gave up on the topic, which would do me no good at this moment any way, since it wouldn't help me to escape.

Thankfully at that moment I found the nail, something that would help me, though I knocked the water pitcher over as I did and flinched at the sound. Looking sheepishly skywards, the water from the pitcher spilling onto my hands and soaking the knees of my jeans, to see if anyone upstairs had heard that but it turned out none of them had, as not a noise could be heard through the ceiling. Giving it a moment, just in case, I then sat myself back down and began with the task of cutting myself free, wondering what the best next step would be. I could always do what we did to Wormtail earlier, attack the next person to come down, force my way past them and make a run for it, though I would have to rely on someone coming down soon, as who knew how long it would take Voldemort to get here, probably not very long. In which case I needed a new plan, one that would enable me to get out of here before they came down for me. I supposed that I could search the room for other objects, like the nail, that might be of use to me, things that I could use to pick the lock maybe, since I didn't have a wand. But then again, Luna and Mr Olivander had been here much longer than I had, and they hadn't discovered anything like that, if they had they would have escaped.

But I was determined, and not about to be deterred from something that would prevent me from actually going insane with fear, from something that made me feel like this situation wasn't as hopeless as it was, I decided that was what I would do. So, as soon as I had severed the ropes, which took quite a lot of effort and made me even more frustrated, what with the awkwardness of using my bound hands to try and free myself and dropping the nail a few times, I set about crawling around the room, searching for anything of use. I had to keep busy, I had to try, I wasn't one to just sit back and let things happen to me, but I knew if I thought too much about my current predicament, my terror would paralyse me, so, keeping my mind on the task, and my eyes, which were adjusting further to the lack of light, and hands searching, I moved. Using one of the walls as a guide I made my way along in straight lines, my reaching fingers brushing up against Lord only knows what, but I couldn't bring myself to care, every time I touched something cold, or wet or slimy, I made sure it was nothing I could use before moving on.

To keep my mind busy and my sanity intact, I thought of the positives while I searched, though there was very few of them. I doubted even the world's most devot optimist could find much light in this situation. The biggest positive, by far, was that the others had got away, they were safe and though I wished I was with them, this was the best I could hope for right now. I had seen them apparate away and took great comfort in that fact, because unless something truly and cruelly disastrous had happened, they were out of harm's way. As much as we ever could be anyway. Another positive, I thought as I held back a noise of irritation as I crawled through the spilt water, would be that the others had taken two of my captor's wands with them, meaning that more of them were defenceless and they couldn't all attack me at once, also, it meant that my friends now all had wands of their own again. Also a positive, Griphook hadn't told Bellatrix that the sword was the real Sword of Gryffindor, so she didn't know that we had it and Voldermort wouldn't know what we had been up to, which was brilliant news, I thought as I reached the end of another wall and turned right before carrying on again, seeing very little in front of me but what I could see becoming clearer. So it wasn't all bad, I tried to convince myself, so what if I'm alone, wandless and locked in the Malfoy's cellar with Voldermort on the way, probably expecting them to have captured Harry, there were some positives.

Barely containing my hysterical laughter, I carried on crawling until my fingers met with something soft. Surprised I withdrew my touch, as out of all the things I had touched in this cellar, none of them had felt like that, soft but cold. Inquisitive I reached out again, getting a better feel and discovering that whatever this was it was quite big as I ran my hand over a soft, spongy, icy expanse, and then I touched a button and it hit me. Wormtail. Repulsed and horrified I quickly scrabbled backwards until my back crashed into the cellar wall, my heart pounding violently in my chest and disgust tricking through me steadily. They had just left him here, surely they had to know that he was dead by now, they had brought me down here hadn't they? But still they had chosen to leave him here, either for my benefit or because of total disregard on their part, whichever it was it was still appalling, but I ought not to expect anything else from Death Eaters. Calming down and trying to convince myself that it was just a body, nothing more, but about as comfortable with the idea of being left down here with a dead body as anyone would be, no mater how I had felt for Wormtail in his last moments. I sat myself down, pushing thoughts of Inferi roughly from my mind. Merlin, what was I in for here? I thought desperately, staring out at the large, dark shape that had been Wormtail. I didn't get the chance to dwell on this for long though; loud, fast paced footsteps could be heard overhead and my frightened attention was diverted.

"…let us begin our lesson then," the cold, dangerous voice of Lord Voldemort echoed clearly through the ceiling and I felt my heart freeze over in shock and horror, I hadn't thought he would be here so soon. "What are you waiting for, Draco? Bring up our guest."

**Draco**

The world seemed to move in slow motion as he watched her fall, his heart in his chest, which had been racing mere seconds ago, slowed right down to an ominous and distinct thud, thud. Dobby span, languidly and almost gracefully as he apparated and a look of horrified realisation dawned on Potter's face when he noticed he wasn't holding onto Ivy any more. Idiot, Draco couldn't help but think venomously, what an absolute, careless, imbecile letting go of her like that! Draco would not have done so, if he were in Potter's position, he was sure of it, and now the useless Golden Boy had abandoned her here, leaving her virtually unprotected! However, even his rage at Potter didn't hold his attention for long, as Ivy's small frame collided with the floor then, grabbing the whole of his attention and stopping his heart dead. It was the most excruciating thing to ever have to see, Ivy looking up from where she lay on the floor, with no escape and after being hit by a spell sent by his mother. Draco's own mother. There had been nothing he could do, no way to stop her, she had snatched up his father's wand in a fury and shot her spell without hesitation. He had been too far away to do anything. Transfixed, Draco watched as Ivy crashed to the ground and hit her head violently, feeling each blow she felt as physically and keenly as if they were his own, he couldn't help but flinch.

There was a silence then, as together the two Malfoy's and Bellatrix could only watch, each of them lost in their own thoughts and powerful emotions, as they beheld the faint girl on the floor. Draco was frozen, horror beyond words, beyond measure filling him up. He was exactly one second away from snapping as he had in the courtyard, his composure cracking excruciatingly as this was a thousand times worse than that had been. Before, when Ivy had been with the others, there had been the relative safety of numbers and the Dark Lord's obsession with Potter, if Draco and Ivy had been lucky they might not have paid her much mind until Draco had a chance to get her out of there. But now she was alone, the consolation prize they would have to give to the Dark Lord, who expected Potter, and who would be furious to find that he wasn't here. She was in danger, alone in the lion's den with the whole pride staring at her hungrily, and there was nothing Draco could do. So as they just stared at her, Draco's fists flexing in fury and despair, no one moved or spoke for a long moment, trying to figure out what all this meant. In the next instant though, reacting to the situation which had been gifted to her, Bellatrix rushed forwards, snatched the wand from Draco's mother's grip, who had been staring down at Ivy in distaste, and trained it on the girl almost unconscious on the floor. Watching all of this, the world still moving at a fraction of its normal speed, Draco realised what his aunt was going to do just seconds before it would have been too late, fear quickly seized his heart but also gave him courage, as without a second's hesitation Draco was running.

"Avada-!" Bellatrix started to scream, fury written vividly across her dark features, her cold stone eyes fixed squarely on Ivy and a crazed look on her face as she went to extract her revenge and vent her frustrations over Potter escaping, on the girl who was left behind.

"NOOOO!" Draco cried tearing across the distance between himself and Bellatrix, knocking her aside and sending her aim wide just in time. His mother gasped in shock but Draco paid no attention, there was only one thing on his mind. As Draco crashed into the side of his aunt she let out an enrage shriek and her spell shot off course, blasting a painting off the wall but, mercifully, missing its target.

Panting a little from fear and exertion, Draco quickly looked over his shoulder at Ivy, who had now passed out on the floor, an inevitable result of her head injury, but other than that she was fine and Draco was relieved. Bellatrix soon saw to that though.

"How dare you?" she shrieked as she picked herself up from the sofa she had fallen against, her long, dark, matted hair falling messily across her face and only adding to her look of madness "HOW DARE YOU?" she repeated lunging for him, fingers outstretched and aiming for his throat.

"Bella!" Draco's mother cried as her son fought to keep Bellatrix's hands from around his neck, a difficult task given Bellatrix's rage and desperation, as the Dark Lord would be here in a matter of moments, Potter had escaped and she couldn't even hand him one dead sympathiser. He was sure to kill them all for this, but not before she committed murder herself.

"You ignorant child! You have doomed us all!" she shouted as Draco wrapped his hands around her wrists in an attempt to protect himself and throw her off, but Bellatrix was furious and for such a slight woman put all her strength behind her attacks.

"You WOULD have doomed us all!" Draco shouted in her face, hating the woman before him with every fibre of his being for what she had been about to do, loathing her more than he could ever say. "Do you have any idea who she is? Do you?" he roared, not caring that he was speaking out of turn or that she was his elder, though Bellatrix did take offense as she doubled her efforts to throttle him. "She's the Seer! The Seer the Dark Lord wants ALIVE, so he can use her! And you would have killed her then to satisfy your own cravings!"

That stopped her; Bellatrix froze where she stood though her expression became no less murderous, while Draco's lost none of its contempt and resolve. Over Bellatrix's shoulder Narcissa, who had been edging forward with the intention of separating the two, stopped as well, her head turning back to the unconscious girl who had been attacking her beloved son before. So she was the Seer? She thought in contemplation before deciding the girl was very unimpressive and turning back to her son and sister, who were still staring at each other in loathing. After another moment of this Bellatrix wrenched her arms from Draco's grip, so violently that it knocked yet more scraggly hair into her eyes which she made no attempt to move, she just continued to watch her nephew with disgust.

"So you admit it?" Bellatrix asked wilily, her dark eyes fixed on Draco who was now standing tall and proud a few steps away from her "So you admit the girl is the Seer? You didn't seem so sure earlier Draco, what is your game?"

"Bella!" Narcissa exclaimed again going to stand beside her son who, much to her chagrin, refused to look at her "What are you suggesting?"

"Open your eyes, Cissy! Tell me you haven't noticed that there's something off about your precious little boy? That you haven't noticed that he's always quiet and moody, that he never does the Dark Lord's bidding willingly, that he is changed? He knew that was Potter from the moment he saw him, I'm sure of it, just as he knew she was the Seer! I think we have a little traitor in our midst!" She exclaimed, watching Draco's reaction the entire time she spoke but noticing no change in his tight expression, not that that deterred her from her reasoning.

Narcissa gasped again, appalled that her sister would make such an accusation, but at the same time furious and frightened to have these things, which had been troubling her for some time, voiced aloud. It made them seem more real and Narcissa didn't want to think her son had changed. Draco, meanwhile, had no outward reaction to Bellatrix's outburst. Though inside he was alarmed by how much Bellatrix had noticed and filled with disdain that his mother, who had just attacked the woman he loved, was standing so close to him and acting in his defence. It irritated him endlessly, that she didn't know how he felt about Ivy made no difference to him, she had already done it. However, none of these emotions were visible; he just continued to glare at Bellatrix, who dared him to defy her claims about his character.

"An interesting theory," he said dryly "except when you consider that you were the only one here who was about to go against the Dark Lord's orders."

"And how was I to know that! When you didn't tell us who she was?" Bellatrix hissed menacingly, leaning forwards and scowling.

"Maybe by putting two and two together and realising that as one of Potter's friends there was every chance she might be the Seer? Or by excising some self restraint, and not killing everything that moves or might be useful!" Draco responded in a clipped, irritated voice, his rage at what had almost happened to Ivy far outweighing his fear of being found out.

"Impudence!" Bellatrix exclaimed, infuriated by Draco's words and looking between her sister and Draco in disbelief, as though looking for Narcissa to chastise him, but she didn't and Draco paid that no heed to her shouting.

"And as for knowing that it was Potter immediately," Draco said, continuing even though his aunt was looking as though she would very much like to try and strangle him again "I don't know how you possibly imagine that I could, his face being as disfigured as it was."

"But what of the girl?" Bellatrix asked, fancying that she had caught Draco out "what is your excuse for not recognising her."

Draco raised a pale eyebrow and took a deep breath to steady himself "my 'excuse'," he said as though she were simple for even putting it like that "is that it's been a long time since I saw her, she has changed a lot since then." Draco answered, restraining himself from glancing at her and knowing this wasn't a lie, as like he had observed in the cellar earlier, Ivy's entire demeanour had changed.

Bellatrix scoffed, as though she thought that doubtful, but Draco had no reaction but for the sight twitch of his left eye, a result of his trying to control himself and restraining from snatching up a wand a cursing his aunt across the room.

"And as for me being a traitor," Draco went on in a tired tone as though dealing with a particularly bothersome child "if I am as withdrawn and uninterested as you claim that I am, then I would be a pretty useless spy. What possible purpose could I serve to the Order of the Phoenix if I don't get involved in the Dark Lord's matters or try to be part of things? I wouldn't have any information to give them."

"You could be waiting for the right moment, the perfect time to undermine us and ruin the Dark Lord's plans; I said you were a traitor Draco, not a spy." Bellatrix said coldly, all of the other things Draco had said clearly having no consequence with her and still holding on fast to her suspicions. However, before Draco could deny her claims or insult her further, his mother stepped in, sensing that the confrontation was about to get out of hand.

"We haven't the time for this!" Narcissa exclaimed, stepping between the two who seemed almost ready to fight, such was the strength of their contempt "Put these suspicions out of your mind Bella, I know my son; he knows where his loyalty lies. Continue this argument later if you must, but we haven't the time for it now, you said so yourself, the Dark Lord is coming and he will expect us to have Potter."

Looking between the two, her only son and her closest sister, Narcissa held firm but couldn't help but worry over this. Draco and Bellatrix continued their furious glaring, each one unwilling to back down and concede this fight, however, both knew there was no time, and so, reluctantly, Bellatrix turned to her sister.

"You are indeed right, my sister, we must act quickly to save ourselves. The Dark Lord will be furious when he discovers Potter's escape, but if we move fast we may be able to turn this in our favour," she turned to Draco whose blue eyes were still as hard as sapphires "as Draco so helpfully informed us," she sneered "we have the Seer, and that will please the Dark Lord."

Narcissa nodded her agreement, and with one anxious look at her son, who was glaring furiously at the floor, refusing to look at either woman as he thought about Bellatrix's spiteful words and what they meant. He stayed, silently fuming over his hopeless situation as he tried to regain his composure, even as Narcissa turned worriedly away from him and took from Bellatrix Lucius' wand before she crossed the room to revive him. She had not forgotten her unconscious husband lying across the room, but the inevitable battle between her son and sister had been more prevalent. Bellatrix, meanwhile, watched Draco distrustfully for a moment, all good opinion of him lost, for she was sure of his treachery.

"Prove yourself useful, Draco," she said in a demeaning voice as he turned his harsh gaze back to her "take the Mudblood down into the cellar and make sure that she won't escape."

Draco didn't respond, he just regarded his aunt with an expression of unmistakable hatred, Bellatrix was unaffected by his loathing glare though, and with a look which said, more expressively than words ever could, that she didn't trust him and would be watching him, she swiftly turned her back and walked towards the spot where Potter and his friends had been. She passed by Ivy with little more than a repulsed look and a scoff, and proceeded onwards, under Draco's protective gaze, to follow some unseen line, before seeming to spot something and bending down.

"Blood," she observed as she pressed her fingers to the carpet and they came up scarlet, an unmistakeable tone of amusement and mirth in her voice. Moving on from the fresh bloodstain she began to search the area for something that she couldn't seem to find, before laughing maliciously and getting to her feet. "Potter won't be so pleased with his escape now."

Waiting a moment Draco watched her, wary of her now and hating her more than ever, but he didn't waste his time asking what she was talking about, as he was all too willing to set about the task he had been given and time was short. Crossing the room in measured strides, trying not to look too eager, Draco reached Ivy's side and crouched down. Making sure to display none of the tenderness he so keenly felt, he turned her over and quickly inspected her, worried. There was no denying that she looked bad; her bloodstained cheek still bore a shallow gash, while the other was still red from where she had been slapped and there was a distinct scarlet lump on her forehead. But overall she was fine, she'd ache a bit when she came to, but Draco knew that, for now at least, her physical injuries were minimal, however that didn't fill him with much hope for what was to come. Acting quickly, because he had to get her out of here before the real danger arrived, he gently picked her up in his arms, reluctantly leaving her head lolling awkwardly to avoid looking like he cared too much. He then snatched his wand, which she had taken from him earlier; from by her side and stood up again. It was as he was adjusting her in his arms, dispersing her little weight evenly, that he jolted her and he noticed something small fall from her trouser legs, catching the light and glistening as it fell. Confused Draco looked down as discreetly as he could, and was surprised to spot a tiny vial lying on the floor at his feet. Glancing around to make sure that no one was looking, Draco quickly but carefully kicked the vial under a nearby table, so that he could come back for it later.

Holding Ivy in his arms, feeling somewhat comforted and calmed by having her so close, his anger seeping out of him and leaving him with only fear for her safety to battle off his tiredness and power his actions, though that was more than strong enough. He turned and headed for the drawing room door, anxious to get out of there and well aware of the eyes of his mother and aunt following his progress. He kept his head high though and did his best to appear indifferent and careless, that was until the drawing room door was shut behind them, and the painful pretence was dropped. He gently manoeuvred Ivy's head so that it rested more comfortably against his chest, taking in a deep, relieved breath and breathing in her citrusy smell, which he still associated with her even after all this time, he slowed his pace to minimise chances of jolting her. Looking wistfully down at her unconscious form he couldn't help but sigh. What am I supposed to do now? He asked himself as he held her close, he couldn't believe the impossibility of his position but vowing to find a way out of it he decided to do as asked, to put Ivy back in the cellar, until he came up with a way to get her out of here that wouldn't put them both in danger. It was cowardly, he knew that, but as his argument with his aunt in the drawing room had proved, he wasn't ready to declare his allegiance yet. In fact, he wasn't even sure which side of this supposedly important battle he was on any more, only that the only person involved that he felt any devotion to, was Ivy.

Reaching the door to the cellar, Draco carefully opened it and holding onto the unconscious Ivy tightly, made his cautious way down the staircase, the sound of his dress shoes hitting the ancient stone steps and his steady breathing, the only noises as he descended. Opening this second door Draco stepped inside the chilly cellar, only to remember that there weren't any lamps down here, for obvious reasons what with its recent use, and so lit his wand tip to see where he was going. Light erupted from the point of his wand, filling the room but making things seem no less bleak for Draco. However, he managed to forget about that for a moment, as the new light illuminated something that startled him so much that he actually physically jumped in fright. It was Wormtail, lying unmoving on the stone floor, and as Draco stared down at the large man's, purple, expressionless face he felt the horror and disgust that had been almost his constant companions since he had become a Death Eater. Draco didn't like death, it frightened him and the Death Eaters and his aunt's blatant disregard for the sanctity of life sickened him, however he knew that it wasn't by any Death Eaters hands that Wormtail had died. And holding onto Ivy a little tighter he couldn't help but wonder how else these months had changed her and her friends, at what they were capable of now.

Eyes firmly on Wormtail as he cautiously stepped around him, unnerved by the dead body, Draco moved as quickly as he could to the far wall of the room, where he slowly knelt down and lowered Ivy to the floor. He ought to, at that point, have just bound her and returned to the others, it might have lifted some of Bellatrix's suspicion if he had, though Draco doubted that, Bellatrix was convinced of his guilt now and nothing would ever change that. And though he knew he shouldn't stay long, lest the others start to wonder, and he knew that the Dark Lord would be here soon, he made no move to leave. He couldn't help it, it had been so long since the last time he had seen her, so long since he had been this close, and he was transfixed on her, unable and unwilling to move he just stayed where he was, kneeling on the cold and dirty floor, gently brushing strands of her mahogany hair from her relaxed face. It was odd to see her so tranquil, Draco thought in what might have been amusement under different circumstances, to see the lines of her face so smooth and calm. It gave him a very odd sense of peace, but at the same time reminded him of what had happened upstairs, of how she had looked at him the first time they had interacted with each other, visibly, since she was brought here. Her face, so contorted and vivid with fury would be branded forever on his eyelids, he was sure, and he wasn't surprised that she had taken her chance to have a go at him, he'd always expected that she'd want her revenge, that was the kind of thing Ivy did, she never let anything drop. And Draco had wronged her, so she would want to make him pay. Which was why, when Ivy pointed those wands at him upstairs, Draco hadn't looked the least bit shocked. The thing that had surprised him though, was that she pulled them away.

Uncomfortable now, shifting nervously as his thoughts drifted into dangerous territory, Draco thought of how he had stood there, frozen under her enraged gaze, how she had looked every inch a wronged angle come to extract her revenge. He remembered not even trying to escape when she turned away, he remembered thinking that he probably disserved it, that being jinxed by her might even lessen some of this unbearable guilt he felt. Then she turned back to him, no change in her furious expression and the wands still trained on him, but just when Draco had expected her to let loose her curse of choice, the strangest, most unreadable expression had crossed her face and she lowered the wands in a movement that was almost as violent as her earlier expression had been. It didn't make any sense; Draco couldn't understand why she didn't curse him and refused to build up his precarious hopes by even considering that it was because she felt any kind of tenderness towards him. Ivy hated him, Merlin knew she'd made as much obvious of late and Draco would have to be the world's saddest person to believe otherwise. But still, her actions had thrown him and he couldn't make sense of them.

Frowning in confusion Draco continued to look down at her, wondering how long it would take her to come back around as he tried and failed not to dwell on her not cursing him. He couldn't understand it! She had every reason, every right to want to hurt him, and Draco knew her well enough to know that she wasn't shy about getting people back who deserved it, why did she show him mercy? If that was even what you would call it. Draco didn't know, this whole thing mystified him, he was tired, furious, under suspicion, and drained from an evening of unimaginable emotional torture, he couldn't get his head around any of this any more. He only knew that he needed to keep her safe. Raking his free hand through his already messy blond hair and hating himself all the while, Draco delicately placed Ivy's hands together, one atop the other, and lifted them up into one of his own.

"Incarcerous," he said clearly, pointing his wand at her hands and watching as a length of magical rope shot out and bound its self around Ivy's wrists.

He had to do the job properly, he told himself to ease his conscious, that dark little voice in his head talking again. What good will you be able to do her if they find out you're trying to help her? It asked, you've got to make it convincing. So, filled with reluctance and uncertainty, Draco lowered Ivy's hands back to her stomach, gave into his worried urges and inspected the wound on Ivy's head more closely, and was about to head back upstairs, knowing he had spent longer than he should have done down here anyway, when Bellatrix's alarmed voice echoed from above.

"My Lord!" She exclaimed in a tone half way between joyous and shocked, trying to appear glad to see him but clearly terrified of what he was going to do when he found out how badly they had failed him. "We didn't even hope you would be here so soon…"

"Silence, Bellatrix." Voldemort said in a cutting, proud voice which sent chills of fear down Draco's spine even from this distance "Where is he? Where is Potter? I told you not to disturb me unless you had him, now show him to me!"

"My Lord!" Bellatrix implored humbly, desperately respectfully "We had Potter…"

"Had Potter!" Voldermort exclaimed, cutting across her in the wake of his fury "you, HAD Potter! Do you mean to tell me that he has escaped you, Bellatrix!"

"Please, my Lord, please, you must understand…!" Bellatrix begged but she didn't get the chance to finish, Voldemort was in no mood to deal with failure and as Draco returned his gaze from the ceiling to the unconscious Ivy, he knew he could stay here no longer, that he had to go upstairs and face Voldermort lest he come down here looking for him too. But knowing that wouldn't make going up there any easier, his monstrous master still scared him witless.

"Enough excuses!" Voldermort cried and there was the sound of something exploding upstairs, followed by the echo of Narcissa's frightened scream "I have had enough of your incompetence, you let Potter escape from your clutches and then called me here to tell me of your failure, yes Bellatrix, you have failed me and now you shall be punished for it! Crucio!"

Bellatrix's agonised screams sounded loudly through the manor and reluctantly Draco got to his feet, not about to cower down here but terrified of what might await him upstairs. Though he was willing to put on a brave face if it meant protecting Ivy, and that was all he had to remember. Dithering a moment beside her, feeling the need to kiss her or hold her one last time, for who knew when he would ever get the chance to do so again. But a less sentimental part of his brain promptly pushed those thoughts away as foolish and maudlin, and feeling pained just to be separated from her again and reluctant to leave her alone with Wormtail's dead body, he considered getting someone to remove it. No, he thought firmly, quickly dismissing the idea, if someone goes down there now to bring up his body, Draco thought rationally as he locked the first door behind him, then they'll remember her being there. And though it was unlikely that Bellatrix would forget that important bit of information when pleading with the Dark Lord for mercy, Draco wanted for everyone to forget about Ivy and just leave her there. Doubtful, even though these were his own desperate hopes, Draco raced up the stairs, locked the second door behind him, and cautiously made his way back down the corridor. Scrambling together what little pride and composure he could find, Draco managed to appear a frightened, sickly version of himself as he unwillingly pushed open the drawing room door. Bellatrix's screams, which had assaulted his ears the whole way down the corridor, stopped almost the instant he stepped into the room, and she collapsed onto the floor, on all fours and panting for breath.

"Ah, if it isn't Draco," Voldemort said almost conversationally, though there was a distinct flash of malice and madness in his ruby red eyes when they landed on Draco.

"Have you come out of hiding then, Draco, I presume that was why you were not here when I first arrived? Were you too afraid to face your master after disappointing him so? Or perhaps," he said turning away from Draco, who did his best to appear unflinching and to hold his head high, to glance at Narcissa, who stood anxiously beside her husband as that monster rounded on her son "it was on your dear mummy's orders you hid, we all know how she worries about you." Voldemort said patronisingly, but Draco had no reaction, not wanting to show that he was being provoked or to make Voldemort any angrier with him.

"Have you decided that it's time to be a man?" the snake-like man continued to ask the emotive boy "to face your fears, and me, head on? A very brave decision, but it matters not, for you will get the same as the rest of your family, you will all be taught what it means to fail Lord Voldermort!" And with that the Dark Lord turned his wand on Draco, who braced himself for the attack, and was about to curse the young boy until the mother intervened.

"My Lord!" She implored, terrified for her son and unwilling to watch him suffer, she stepped forwards despite Lucius' restraining hand on her shoulder. "My Lord, please!"

"Stop your grovelling, Narcissa, it will spare no one!" Voldermort roared and was about to speak the curse when she interrupted again.

"Draco was seeing to our prisoner, my Lord!" she injected quickly and Draco, who had been almost resigned to his fate, turned to her, a look of appalled disbelief on his face. What was she doing? She was ruining anything, Ivy would be found out! Trying to discreetly shake his head at his mother, Draco watched as Voldemort turned back to Narcissa, who stood there looking determined.

"Your prisoner?" he asked with interest and Narcissa needed no more encouragement.

"Yes, my Lord, she was with Potter but we managed to prevent her from escaping. It's…" Narcissa was exclaiming until Bellatrix, recovering from her punishment, saw an opportunity to get back in the Dark Lord's good graces and quickly got to her feet and cut across her sister.

"She is the Seer, my Lord, Jones; she is tied up in the cellar with no escape!"

"Is this true, Draco?" Voldemort asked turning back to Draco who refused to say anything, alighting the Dark Lord's suspicions and causing the dangerous dark wizard to eye him with an interest that never benefited ones health.

"It is indeed," Lucius confirmed though he hadn't seen the captured girl for himself, he was still going to defend his son's, and consequently his own, honour.

"Is your son learning the Imperious Curse, Lucius?" Voldemort asked Malfoy irately without turning to look at him "Because I don't remember asking you." he added threateningly and Lucius was silenced, looking uncomfortable as his son managed to keep his own expression neutral, convincing himself that if he only maintained that then nothing else would mater, that then Voldemort would drop whatever suspicions he clearly had about Draco. Things never worked that way though.

"Come, Draco," the Dark Lord commanded, taking a few imposing steps towards Draco, who refused to flinch or say anything, knowing he was treading dangerous water but not about to drop Ivy in it. "Let me hear it from your lips, is she the Seer?"

The intensity and the threat behind the Dark Lord's gaze was such that, while he may want to stand there and stay silent, pretending not to be here, Draco couldn't not say anything. Refusal wasn't an option.

"I don't know," Draco hedged cautiously, trying not to outright lie to his master, who was eyeing him in such a way that Draco was sure he didn't believe a word of it, but finding it impossible not to. "It's been a long time since I saw her, she doesn't look the same."

"I suppose that it has," Voldemort agreed lightly, taking Draco of guard for a moment but he was quick to put his defences back up, sensing this had to be a trick "how many months must it have been now? A good many I cannot deny, but I wonder, how long has it been since the two of you spoke, or perhaps rather, wrote to each other?" he asked his tone darkening and his ruby gaze fixed warningly on Draco as he paced a little.

Confused and cautious Draco felt his brow furrow but kept as still and confident as he could, even though he was sure that the Dark Lord knew something, that he was insinuating something, but not aware of what.

"I don't know…" Draco replied, in a tight but bewildered voice and his master's eyes flashed for a moment before he promptly turned away and continued pacing.

"It is of no further consequence," Voldemort said mysteriously as he passed Bellatrix, who was staring at Draco in furious disbelief, for he hadn't admitted Ivy's identity to the Dark Lord, and she was clearly itching to out him, but the memory of her recent torture was still sharp and she settled for shooting Draco murderous looks.

"It seems that it is up to me to discover the truth then," the Dark Lord said gravely and no one uttered a word, which suited him fine as he continued "but first, let's decide on the means… Lucius!" he snapped and the elder Malfoy looked up in refined alarm, worried about what his master might want "Go to the sitting room and light the fire." He commanded.

"Y…yes, my lord," Lucius said unsurely as he shared a worried glance with his wife, too frightened to make a scene about being told what to do in his own house "but to what purpose, may I ask?"

Meanwhile, still standing tall across the room, Draco regarded his master as he turned to his dishevelled father with a cold and threatening look in place, and Draco eyed the creature warily, sure this could lead to nothing good. Why was Voldemort requesting another room?

"The girl is in the cellar bellow, is she not?" Voldemort asked angrily, as though Draco's father was an imbecile, and after a devout 'yes, my lord' from Lucius, Voldermort continued. "Then we need to move to another space as we decide her fate, where she cannot overhear, fear of the unknown if so much more gratifying than fear of what is to come. Now go!"

"Yes, my lord." Lucius said quickly before promptly leaving the room to do as asked, a brief moment passed and with one more threatening glance at Draco, Voldermort turned towards the door.

"Come," he said heading out of the room, his long black robes billowing behind him and hesitantly Draco, Bellatrix and Narcissa followed him.

Though he was the most cautious and though he would sooner stick pins in his eyes than follow Voldermort blindly, Draco was the closest to the door, and under the strict gazes of his mother and aunt he headed out of the room after his master, dread trying his stomach up in complicated knots. As they swept down the dim corridors, Draco's heart pounding in fear, they passed the door to the cellar and Draco had to actively restrain himself from glancing at the closed wooden door as they walked by. Knowing she was in there and in danger. Coming up behind him swiftly, Bellatrix grabbed the back of his shirt and abruptly pulled him backwards a little, down to her height.

"Admit it!" She hissed in his ear menacingly "Tell him you know she's the Seer, or I'll reveal that you are lying to him!"

Sending her a disgusted look Draco yanked himself free from her grip and went on walking, straightening his robes out as he went and saying nothing in response to her threat. It was an empty one; she was too out of favour to dare say anything that might bring on the Dark Lord's wrath and Draco was past caring if she did. There was no way to prove that he had told her it was Ivy, and all she'd end up doing was making the Dark Lord punish them both. And while that wasn't something Draco looked forward to, he was sure he could endure it if it meant Ivy was safe. But would she be? Draco questioned as he cautiously followed Voldemort towards the sitting room, the Dark Lord had said he wanted to find out if she was the Seer or not, and Draco wasn't sure how he expected to do that, but he knew he wouldn't like it, whatever it entailed. He could try and stop it, to try and convince Voldemort that Ivy was just a sympathiser, not the real Seer and of no use or danger to them, but short of turning around and sprinting back the cellar to free her, there was nothing else Draco could do.

They reached the sitting room, a dimly lit, elegant room not unlike the drawing room, and the three anxious servants and their domineering master strode inside, Voldemort shut the door ominously behind them and as one Draco, Narcissa and Bellatrix walked nervously over to Lucius by the lit fire. For a long moment no one said a word, the five only stood in silence, Voldemort regarded them all coldly and each Malfoy knew they were in trouble here. Though none of them could have predicted what happened next, least of all the fatality besotted Draco.

"Despite this indefensible failure," Voldemort said in a hard voice as he advanced towards the Malfoy's and Bellatrix "your complete and utter worthlessness may work in my favour. I now have one of Potter's friends at my mercy, she is in danger from me and Potter will know that and that will fuel the absurd heroism in him and he will rush to her aid, running right back into my clutches."

As he spoke Voldemort continued to walk towards them, looking no less vicious than he had done earlier and with his flashing gaze locked on Draco, who stood at the front of the little, quivering group, his expression as neutral as he could make it and trying to appear calm, though he was anything but. The Dark Lord speaking of Potter's attachment to Ivy, even though he didn't know the extent of it, reminded Draco of their intimacy and stoked the flames of jealousy within him again, making him more and more volatile by the second. Not to mention what was a blatant threat to Ivy, as the Dark Lord admitted his plans to hurt her, which almost pushed Draco over the edge. However, somehow he managed to keep hold of his composure but he was fast losing his grip.

"But, until he makes his daring rescue," Voldemort said with an obvious tone of mock, even though his voice was a dark as it was "we must discern if she is the Seer or not, since the looks of the girl he spent the greater part of the last year deceiving, seem to have slipped Draco's mind." He said bitingly and Draco bristled "And also, we must get as much information out of the girl as we can, her knowledge of Potter's movements will be invaluable."

Voldemort came to a stop in front of Draco then, ignoring everyone else in the room, even as Bellatrix eagerly sought his attention and Lucius and Narcissa shifted uncomfortably, worrying for Draco. Because the look their master was giving him, it was so terrifying, so menacing, that it scared them more than anything else could have done. But Draco didn't flinch, he maintained the Dark Lords gaze and held it steadily, until everyone, including Draco himself, was sure that the mysteriously furious Dark Lord would snap and curse him. He didn't though, surprising them, Voldemort turned away from them and began to walk about the room.

"The girl will surely have been taught Occlumency," Voldemort mused as he walked, and Draco regarded him with suspicious eyes "if she truly is the Seer, as the old fool Dumbledore would have wanted to lock her mind from me. Therefore, I cannot extract what she knows through Legilimency, and we will have to use other means."

He abruptly stopped walking and turned sharply back to face the others, a calculated edge to his voice when he spoke "Bellatrix," he said firmly and she promptly jumped to attention, showing him how eager she was to please him "you will assist me in administering the Cruciatus Curse, for this girl, I feel I will require your special…talents."

His words instantly had their desired effects, Draco felt pure unadulterated horror seeping in through his every pore, both chilling his heart and alighting every fibre of his being. He was going to use the Cruciatus Curse on Ivy, ruthlessly and with no mercy so that he could find out what she knew, but worse than that he was going to let Bellatrix curse her too. Bellatrix who had wanted to kill Ivy from the off, who could probably sense Draco's attachment to her and wanted to get back at him, who had a deadly track record with her torturing. Draco couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he was all on to even think straight as this terror consumed him, but he wasn't thinking straight at all, for if he was he was sure he would have snatched up his wand and killed the sick bastard before him in an instant. But he didn't, he was too much in shock.

"With pleasure my Lord!" Bellatrix agreed enthusiastically, stepping forwards to show that she was both wiling and able to do as bidden by her master; however, Voldermort didn't even acknowledge her, his intuitive gaze was still fixed upon Draco.

"Good, then let us begin! I see no reason to wait, bring up the girl at once." He commanded, still watching Draco closely as the blond boy looked up to meet his master's gaze again, disbelief and desperation written clear as day across his pale features.

"She doesn't know Occlumency," Draco injected, quickly and with a quiver in his voice that even he heard, but he refused to back down and held firm as Voldemort's perilous gaze intensified.

"What?" he enquired frighteningly, in a tone that would have made a lesser man, a man who didn't feel as strongly as Draco did, back down. However, Draco wasn't about to do that, not now, not when she needed him so.

"Ivy," he answered tightly "if the girl is Ivy then she wont know Occlumency, Dumbledore never taught her, I would have known."

Voldemort tilted his head a little, condescendingly questioning "and your point is?" he asked and Bellatrix laughed in glee and scorn, causing Draco to shoot her a instinctive sharp look which would have been enough to silence even the most ardent opponent. Had they been sane.

"My point," Draco said tightly, returning his gaze to the creature in front of him "is that there is no need to waste time with the Cruciatus Curse. Just look into her mind."

"Naive Draco," Voldemort said in a croaky but terrifying voice as he slowly stalked across the room, an action which chilled Draco to his bones with fear, but he held fast to his resolve, not about to give up on this, "you seem to have missed the point." And before Draco could even try to work out what he meant, the conniving Dark Lord rounded on him.

"Legilimens!" he hissed suddenly, taking Draco and everyone in the room by complete surprise, there was no time to act, and to do so, to go against the Dark Lord, would probably have killed him anyway. So there was nothing Draco could do but let him invade his thoughts.

The sitting room swam before him, becoming nothing but a smear of colour before it disappeared into blackness, everything vanishing and leaving him alone with his own thoughts, which he tried to keep in check but it was almost impossible with the Dark Lord rifling through his most private thoughts. He had tried so hard to avoid this, studied with all his might to learn Occlumency, but it had been giving him trouble and this was his punishment for failing to learn in time. But he didn't have the time to dwell on that, as images were rushing through the darkness before him, going by too fast to really discern but bringing with them jolts of emotions and snippets of sounds, a word here or there, a tune, a laugh. Ivy's laugh. Draco's reacted instantly then, his heart gave a betraying flutter in his chest and Voldemort stopped searching; slowing down the flashing images he was flicking through to get a look at this one in particular. It was a bright sunny day, the light of it blinded Draco who was trapped in the dark confines of his mind, but even then he could still make out the scene before him. He was by the Black Lake, a young boy of about fifteen during one of his and Ivy's rare cease fires, laughing along with her at a story she was telling, he couldn't remember what, and Voldemort didn't stop to find out. The last thing Draco saw was Ivy tilt her head backwards as she laughed openly, letting her hair fall back of her face and lighting up with delight, then the Dark Lord resumed assaulting Draco's memories.

After a few more flashes of indiscernible memories, Voldemort stopped again and Draco could see himself lying in a cot in the Hospital Wing, Ivy standing at the foot of his bed as he eyed a bouquet of cheerful yellow daffodils. Then the Dark Lord was searching once more and Draco was eleven again, sitting in the train compartment and eyeing the young brunette girl with interest as she snapped at him for being rude to her…then he was in the Great Hall, watching eagerly as she was sorted and feeling the disappointment as the Hat put her in Gryffindor….but in the next instant she was beside him, older and more of an elegant beauty than a cute child, her arms folded across her chest as she eyed him with obvious contempt as they stood together, after hours, behind the Slytherin tapestry while he tried to get her to forgive him. However, none of these memories seemed to be what Voldemort was looking for, as he never watched one for too long, losing interest he'd flick to another and then another, carrying on, dragging up past hopes and memories that were excruciating for Draco. However, the next time he stopped Draco began to fight, adamant that the Dark Lord wouldn't see that memory, that he had no right to intrude there.

"Draco," Ivy said worriedly, her voice melodic to his ears even as her tone was tinted with alarm, as she looked up at Draco from where she stood in the dark Astronomy classroom. Draco watched, all kinds of fierce emotions surfacing as he saw himself approaching her slowly, purposefully, her expression telling him that it wasn't fear of him that she felt, but rather fear for him "listen." She said pleadingly, raising her hands as though to stop his progression.

He didn't listen, he still to this day didn't know what Ivy wanted to tell him, and at the time Draco couldn't have imagined how it could have been more important than what he was about to do, as he continued to step towards her until he met with her outraised hands. Ivy looked more than a little stunned, her hands resting pleasantly upon his chest and Draco was sure he saw her gulp and heard her clear her throat. She was nervous. Again Ivy tried to tell him that she had Seen something, and again he ignored that, too wrapped up in the fervent emotions running freely through him, for the first time in a long while, and Draco watched as his impassioned past self quickly and desperately swooped down, silencing her worries with a kiss.

No, Draco thought, pained as he watched himself give in to months of building desire and love and thought about how Voldemort was now privy to such a cherished memory, tainting it by his watching and ruining it for Draco by forcing him to relive it too. No, it wasn't right, HE had no right to watch this, it was private, Draco's one indulgence and he was taking it from him, he thought as he was made to watch Ivy backing up against the wall, willingly accepting Draco's advances and showing her own affection, and feeling the Dark Lord's looming, shadowy presence spoiling it. Get out, Draco thought, quietly furious as his rage at Voldemort's intrusion reached dangerous levels and Memory Ivy brought her hand up to cup Past Draco's cheek, a movement so tender that Draco felt as though he could feel it even now. It did nothing to calm him though, Draco was becoming more agitated, more worked up with every passing second, this was his, this was all he had and Voldemort was taking this from him too, the injustice of it stung at Draco sharply and he soon could take no more.

"Get out!" He roared, the sentiment going from furious thought to enraged cry in one livid instant, for Draco was sure he must have shouted aloud and he didn't care, he couldn't stand Voldemort's presence in his mind a second longer. The memory stopped then, flickering like a film before vanishing back into darkness, and panting from the force of getting his words past the walls of his mind, which he was sill trapped behind, Draco couldn't begin to feel any satisfaction for it, as he knew this wasn't over.

"Disappointing," Voldemort's cold, disapproving voice echoed clearly and spectrally in Draco's mind, before the memorial assault continued.

**Author note: there we go, another chapter, I hope you liked it! Oh, and I have some exciting news, the trailer that someone has kindly offered to make for me, for 'Seeing', is now up on youtube, you can find it via the link on my profile or by (presumably) typing 'seeing trailer (Ivy and Draco)' or something similar into youtube. I'll not tell you my thoughts on it, I don't want to influence you in any way, but please check it out, like, favourite or comment, as the amazing person who did this for us has worked so hard! It's the very least she deserves.**

**Oh, and thank you to my anonymous reviewers xx-Cheshire Cat's Grin-xx, machinechageed and Alligator, who couldn't receive a thank you PM, for the obvious reason that their reviews were anonymous. Lol. Anyway thank you guys.**


	17. The hardest of hearts

**Chapter seventeen: The hardest of hearts**

**"I'll take the blame if it's for your sake. – James Blunt (So far gone)**

**Draco**

Each memory, brutally pulled from him, felt as violating and painful as if layers of Draco's very soul were being ripped away from him, one by one, as Voldemort heartlessly flicked through Draco and Ivy's past. Each new emotion stung like a whip and left Draco feeling exhausted and agonised, though at the same time it stoked something inside of him, this abuse, it fed Draco's fury as paper feeds a fire, making it burn stronger and brighter with the painful destruction of those once sacred pages, which were now being sullied by the blatant disregard of another. If Draco had ever been unsure - he was certain he had been once, though whipped up into such a rage he couldn't imagine how he ever could have been – if he had ever doubted the criminality of Lord Voldemort, then those seemingly never ending seconds made his mind up forever. As his despicable master desecrated the only pure thing he had left, his love for Ivy. If Draco had the use of his hands right then, if he wasn't bound by his own memories in the darkness of his mind, he knew he would have been wrapping them murderously around his 'master's' throat, his wand and the consequences be dammed!

"What would you say if I asked you to dance?" A mischievously grinning fourteen year old Ivy asked, her brown eyes glimmering with trouble and sitting up a little taller beside him, as a scheme occurred to her. Voldemort slowed down his search then, pausing at the Yule Ball, and causing Draco to grit his teeth furiously.

Draco and Voldemort both watched as the young blond boy looked astonished by this request, and even from where he was trapped from behind all this anger, Draco could still feel the way his heart had started to beat that little bit quicker in his chest then, and the numbing confusion that had filled him, both of which at the time he hadn't been able to understand properly, hadn't seen the true meaning behind. Then Draco's younger self grinned just as impishly as his companion, his sharp mind catching her meaning quickly and he sprang to his feet. He realised that she meant to humiliate Aleksandar and Pansy, to make them jealous, and Draco had been up for a bit of pay back.

"You're on Jones," he agreed and her smile widened as she stood up to join him, meanwhile Present Draco still watched, enthralled by seeing this encounter from another perspective, and wondering how long his attachment to Ivy had been in the making. Had it ever not been there? He wondered, he had always thought he was indifferent towards her, that he didn't care what she did, at least until fifth year when they started to become friends of sorts, but had it been even earlier than that when it all started? The thought captured Draco's attention, making him momentarily forget about the constant aching in his chest, and he carried on watching in wonder as, straight backed and a sizeable distance apart, he and Ivy walked to the dance floor. Voldemort, however, seemed to lose interest in the scene though and at once was speeding it a long, the Yule Ball whooshed past Draco in a blur of colour and noise before it suddenly stopped again, and this time Draco was watching himself and Ivy dancing in the centre of the room.

The pair of them looked awkward, Draco observed, both so uncomfortable with this not-so-slight shift in their usual relationship, one which was usually based chiefly on insulting the other, skipping around the room together and staring in totally different directions. Until the infamous foot stomping incident occurred, and Draco made a move Ivy wasn't expecting, bumped into her and consequently she brought her foot down hard on his, as it had no where else to go. Draco watched himself wince and scowl at the brunette he was dancing with, thinking that she had done it on purpose even though Ivy looked up at him in slight surprise and what was almost and apology, and still to this day Draco maintained that the fault was hers and not his.

"Watch where you're going, Jones," Draco's past self whispered warningly, leaning in close to Ivy and speaking the words directly in her ear. It was then that Draco noticed something astonishing for the first time, for he certainly hadn't seen it on the night. As Draco spoke to her, in such a husky voice and so very close to her, Ivy's eyelids fluttered shut blissfully in reaction and she lent a little closer to him. That was until she caught herself and quickly opened her eyes, obviously appalled by the effect he had had on her and noticing Pansy glaring at her furiously from across the room, having seen Ivy and Draco locked in what surely looked like a lovers embrace.

Draco was so completely taken aback by Past Ivy's reaction, so utterly shocked by it, that he momentarily forgot that he wasn't the only one privy to it, that someone else was observing what had, up until now, been an unseen movement. However, he was robbed of any delusions of solitary when Voldemort grew weary of this too and, with a flare of irritation that Draco sensed through the Dark Lord's connection to his mind, hurried the memory along, searching once again. He stopped quickly, just in time for a whiplashed Draco to take in the scene before him. Again it was the Yule Ball, only now yet more time had passed and it was after Pansy had confronted Ivy about Draco being her date. Ivy had just cut Pansy down with a few well chosen words and, walking with her head held high, bid them all goodbye and went to leave. Watching in interest, Yule Ball Draco followed Ivy's proud form with his eyes as she headed towards the doors, feeling nothing short of respect for the girl, not that he ever admitted that to her or ever acted on that feeling. Both Past and Present Draco ignored Pansy as she whined in his ear, trying to reclaim his attention, which was currently firmly fixed on the emerald clad girl striding across the room, and the worthless sack of dragon dung running after her. The faintest beginnings of jealousy sparking, almost unnoticed, in the younger boy's mind, though Draco and consequently Voldermort, could see that now.

"Ivy vait, you don't understand…" he called as he snatched hold of her hand and span her around, much to Ivy's obvious annoyance, if her expression was anything to go by. Fourteen year old Draco stiffened then, and the eighteen year old man began to cross the room towards them, invisible to all the party goers in the hall but determined to hear, up close, what he had barely caught at the time.

"I think that I do," Ivy said, in what for her was a surprisingly calm and rational tone as she pulled her hand from a surprised Aleksandar's grip "go find yourself another mug."

Then, before Draco could see anything but the dignified young girl turn her back on the worthless Bulgarian and continue to make her exit, confidence oozing from her every pour, the scene dissolved and Draco was alone in the darkness once more. Feeling robbed and empty as the emotions that had been filling him before began to seep out, shocked into retreat by the sudden removal of their cause. He felt his loss anew in that instant, the crippling pain that always came hand in hand with their separation, only now it was a thousand times worse, Draco had always denied himself the ability to properly grieve for their severance, thinking that he was too strong for any of that, that he could fight it off, that this agony wasn't dignified. But now in the wake of Voldermort's callous intrusion he was being forced to confront every raw emotion that sprang from their dispute, and was made to sit there and take it as Voldermort tainted every happy memory with his toxic presence.

The snake-like creature was still probing through the levels of Draco's mind, plucking from it the memories that would be useful to him, and casually discarding the ones he had no interest in. Flashes of memories reached Draco, unpleasant recollections thrown in-between the blur of more average ones, amongst these dark seconds Draco caught glimpses of the day the Dark Mark was branded on his arm, the times when Voldemort ordered Draco to torture of his behalf, hours spent toiling away in the Room of Requirement, and that fateful day when Draco had to flee Hogwarts with Snape for his part in Dumbledore's murder. Draco knew, as sure as he knew that an even harsher punishment waited for him after this ordeal, that the Dark Lord wanted Draco to see these memories, just to glance them, to frighten him and to remind him of the choice he had made. As if, Draco thought determined not to let these flashes bother him, there was ever a second in the day that I forgot.

These memories were never expanded upon though; they weren't Voldemort's real targets, and the remembrances of the times Draco and Ivy spent together continued to pop up excruciatingly, dragging up old emotions with them each and every time. Draco watched as Voldemort examined the time that he and Ivy had tea in a café in Ivy's home town. And Draco was so caught up in thinking about how he had been betraying her at the time, and hating the irritating Muggle girl Tara, who had squandered Draco's time with Ivy by trying to force herself upon him and who had insulted Ivy countless times, to notice the way Ivy's gaze narrowed into that familiar glare, as she jealously regarded the other girl. Next the Dark Lord snatched up the memory of Draco and Ivy's argument in the Room of Requirement, as Ivy raged over what McLaggen had almost done to Potter in a Quidditch match, and Draco's past self grew steadily more irritated with her protectiveness towards him. However, watching all of this Draco struggled to contain his dread at what was to come, he knew full well what followed this argument, what critical encounter, one which had shaken up the very foundation of everything Draco had known and understood, which had changed everything, came next. But he refused to think about it, either in trepidation or fondness, as with Voldemort raiding his mind, the creature tainting that memory too was the last thing Draco needed. But it was inevitable, either Draco let an emotion slip or Voldemort just knew there was more, for the next time he fast forwarded through Draco's memories once everything slowed back down the first thing Draco saw was himself and Ivy, engaging in a kiss.

Draco remembered this moment vividly, he didn't need to watch it as he was now to recall every little thing about it, every second, every sensation. He remembered how surprisingly good it felt with his lips upon hers, how her body seemed to fit perfectly in his tight embrace, the thrill of exhilaration and astonishment when Ivy got over her shock and kissed him back, pulling with delicious force on his shirt collar to deepen the kiss. He remembered how confused he had been when they pulled apart, how, away from the heavenly influence of her soft lips; he had been stunned by what he had done and what had transpired. Everything he had felt during that kiss went against everything Draco was supposed to believe, it had been a massive culture shock and Draco had reacted in the only way he knew how to, coldly. However, Voldemort didn't watch the memory long enough the see that, obviously having gotten what he wanted, and Draco wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. Voldemort missed the only action on Draco's part that was what a good little Death Eater ought to have done, but he was spared having to watch Ivy's bewildered and slightly wounded expression for a second time.

The next memory shot Draco from miserable despair and ever growing irritation, right all the way to awe, as Voldemort's random order of selection brought them into the living room of Ivy's house. It was dark, the only light in the whole room was the silhouette of the streetlight shinning through the blinds on the window, but even then Draco could still clearly see himself and Ivy sitting on her settee, nestled under a duvet and in their nightclothes. Draco watched himself as he laughed guiltily at something Ivy had said. And while she was laughing too, Ivy, her hair a tousled cloud around her head, clearly didn't approve of Draco's sniggering as she quickly slapped his arm and told him to shut up, her lips splitting into an even wider smirk. The playful happiness was too much for Draco and Voldemort both, the dark wizard finding it revolting, as a quick burst of alien disgust told Draco, and the unwilling servant unable to handle the thoughts of the past, and fuming all the more at the man that robbed him of what could have been.

The next memory, Draco was sure, only interested the monster in his mind because of who else was in it, though it was as much proof of Draco's regard for Ivy than any of the others. They were now in the potions room at Hogwarts, and without needing to see anything else Draco could tell instantly what day it was, the first day back at school after the Christmas Holidays. And he knew what was coming as he watched himself impatiently snatch up his school bag and walk towards the door, only to almost collide with a fuming Ivy (who had had a scowl permanently fixed in place all lesson), Potter and Granger. Draco stopped instantly, frozen by the force of her gaze and all of them blocking each others path. Draco acted uncaringly, he acted as though he was uninterested in his loss of Ivy's friendship, and at the time he even thought that sooner or later he would be. But Draco remembered what a jolt it had been to see her, how her obvious disgust and fury had cut through the layers of ice he had built up around himself, making him acutely aware of what he had done and how it had hurt her. He remembered how he had wanted to blush and turn away then, humiliated by his betrayal and furious at his humiliation, it had only been his pride that had stopped him. With fresh frustration and resentment Draco watched his eye twitch as Potter, stepping forward defiantly, put a hand on Ivy's shoulder and had a go at Draco for addressing him and not the girl in front of him, with all the while Draco resisting the urge to pull out his wand and curse Potter's fingers off. At the time he had just thought it was Potter's audacity to talk to him like that, which had angered him so, but now he knew the true extent of Potter and Ivy's relationship, he could see the effect that touch had had on him.

It was becoming too much for Draco by then, strong and apathetic though he may try to be, he was anything but these days, and he couldn't look upon these memories with cold detachment, they each meant too much to him. It was draining, physically, mentally and emotionally draining to experience them all again, knowing what would happen, knowing how it all ended, it distressed him and it infuriated him that there was nothing he could do about it, that he could only stand there and watch, once again, as he and Ivy entered into something that wouldn't end well for either of them. However, even under all the strain of these miserable emotions there was one thing that burned fiercely through, Draco's outright fury at Voldemort for ruining these memories for him, for viciously extracting them from Draco and forcing him to relive them. It was as his rage was reaching its peak, being stoked steadily by each new memory, that Voldemort called up the final, and for him, the most vital memory. This was, Draco realised, what he was searching for.

"Look, just pack some stuff up and get ready to leave," A frantic but firm Draco instructed as Ivy's entrance hall appeared in Draco's mind. Standing in the little light spilling in from the living room Past Draco held fast onto Ivy's hand as he implored her to go upstairs and get ready to run. Of course, Ivy wasn't having any of that.

"No," Ivy said sternly, her hard brown gaze fixed squarely upon Draco and her jaw set in defiance, however just as she spoke the Draco in the memory's firm expression broke and, groaning in disbelief at this suicidally stubborn woman, he quickly spoke.

"Are you trying to kill us both?" he asked desperately, almost shouting then and rapidly losing his control where as Ivy's never wavered, even in the wake of her own fear she was still resolved.

"No, but I'm not going to let them hurt my family!" she shouted back, her indignation obvious and her mind firmly set, she wasn't going to leave her family at the mercy of Death Eaters to save her own skin, Draco ought to have know that she wouldn't but it didn't stop him from carrying on.

"We'll get them a message," Draco tried, anxiously looking over his shoulder at the three foreboding men out the window, "they can wait but we cant, they'll be in here any second asking why I haven't brought you to them, we have to get out of here so we can work on our story, it's the only way either of us is going to get out of here."

"Why are you doing this?" Ivy asked him, suspicious and angry both "why aren't you just doing as they told you to?"

I should think that was obvious. Draco thought before he could stop himself, watching as Past Draco's frown deepened a little but he didn't answer her, unable, Draco knew from memory, to understand why he was even doing this himself. However, the next voice to speak wasn't Draco's as it ought to have been, a cold, threatening voice echoed clearly in Draco's head, reacting to Draco's unregulated thoughts. 'It is.' Voldemort said and Draco felt his stomach drop and his fists clench simultaneously

'Such a gallant hero, Draco, protecting your love from harm, even though it means going against you master's orders.' The cold voice continued patronisingly but severely in his head 'Lord Voldermort always knows when you lie, Draco, I did not need Snape to tell me the girl was really a Seer; I could see your own lies plainly on your guilty face.' The Dark Lord's voice hissed out, his fury at Draco's treachery evident in every menacing syllable 'And for this you must be punished; I cannot have my Death Eaters not being loyal to me, no matter how pretty their temptation.'

"We need to leave." Past Draco said in monotone and then, with an abruptness that left Draco reeling, Voldemort sharply withdrew from Draco's mind.

The sitting room rushed back into sight, an explosion of dim colour and hard expressions as Draco promptly doubled over in exhaustion, even though it killed him to show such weakness, the viciousness of Voldemort's mental assault and the effort he had put in to trying to resist it, had taken up almost all Draco had. His chest heaving from where he rested against his knees and Draco felt his legs give a little beneath him but forced himself to stay standing, telling himself adamantly that this was a psychological fatigue, that it wasn't real. Draco felt horribly violated as he took deep gasping breaths and scowled at the floor, he felt naked, stripped of all his many cloaks and with all his secrets laid bare for the world to see. But it wasn't all his secrets, just this one, the biggest most important secret he had and the whole world couldn't see it, just the alarmingly silent Voldemort, and Draco couldn't decide which was better. Shaking Draco tried to right himself, feeling his fists trembling against his knees and knowing that it was as much to do with rage as it was tiredness, and slowly bringing his head up Draco spotted the subject of his rage right before him, looking down at the weakened blond in obvious disgust. Jaw set he could feel his heart, which felt as strong as though it were made of iron and not soft tissue, pounding in his chest, pumping pride, determination, and love around him. Despite of how bare and fragile Voldemort had left him feeling elsewhere, his heart was firmer than ever. Looking through his translucent fringe, blue fire burning defiantly in his eyes, Draco met Voldemort's own blazing gaze without so much as a flinch.

"I'm ready for any punishment." Draco said resolutely, glaring furiously at the Dark Lord for the intrusion, for seeing Draco's most private thoughts and knowing now where Draco's battered heart really lay. And he was ready, there was nothing else the Dark Lord could do to him now, no more that he could take away or destroy, or so Draco thought in his drained state, and he was prepared to stand up and take the consequences for the actions of love he would repeat in a heartbeat. No more hiding, he thought as he stood tall and proud, I'm not ashamed of how I feel.

Voldemort's red eyes widened in fury at Draco's disrespectful tone, a warning motion that always preceded some horrible atrocity, but Draco was defiant and determined, there was no way around it, this couldn't be explained away, Voldemort had seen first hand how clearly Draco had felt for Ivy, he knew who Draco was really loyal to. And Draco couldn't bring himself to care any more, he was sick of hiding it, of covering up his emotions and stuffing them in a corner to be ignored. He was in love damn it, still to this day, madly in love with the worlds most infuriating girl who hated him with a burning passion, and, to Draco's never-ending distress, she was currently locked up in his family cellar, awaiting unimaginable torture and misuse by the creature in front of him, and it was partly by Draco's hand that she was there in the first place. Draco couldn't pretend any more, he physically couldn't, and right then he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he didn't want to, because to just sit by while Voldemort tortured Ivy would be the very worst thing he could ever do, he would sicken himself. Draco refused to just sit there and allow it to happen, and if that meant being tortured himself for his own 'disloyalty' or being otherwise harshly punished, then so be it. Draco was ready.

And so, standing before Voldemort with his head held high, his eyes alight with fury and his jaw set squarely, Draco flexed his fists and noted the location of his wand in his pocket. The Dark Lord, who had never taken his eyes off Draco, looked murderous, though not the normal, human look of rage, Voldemort, when driven to the edge by anger, always became terrifyingly calm and serious looking, but for his blazing eyes, and that was how he looked now. However, just when Draco expected Voldemort to act and to strike his first punishing blow, the monstrous man swiftly looked over Draco's head and addressed the others gathered behind him, who had been silent until then, too frightened to speak, a look of unnerving impassiveness about him, but rage in his voice.

"How disappointing, Lucius," He said almost conversationally, but for the razor sharp edges to his voice, which sliced ruthlessly at Draco who managed to keep from cringing "you and Narcissa have bore a Bloodtraitor," he said loudly and bluntly and there was the sound of a gasp echoing from behind Draco, who refused to turn around and see their expressions, he instead kept his livid gaze upon Voldemort "how even the mightiest of wizarding families are infected by this disease. But still I confess my surprise, that the son of such a vehement Muggle hater, could fall in 'love' with one of them." Voldemort concluded devastatingly, saying the word 'love' with such mock and scorn, as to imply he didn't believe it existed.

"I knew it!" Was Bellatrix's revolted but excited response "I knew he was a traitor. Love a Mudblood, how dare he! After all we have done for him, after the privilege he has been born into! He would squander all that for the love of a Mudblood!" There was the sound of movement behind him and while Draco still refused, out of fury and slight fear, to look around at his appalled family, he knew Bellatrix was striding towards him.

"Bella stop!" Was Narcissa's frantic exclamation, and Draco knew, again without turning, that she had caught hold of his aunt and was holding her back. "It can't be true, I refuse to believe it." she said somewhat desperately, as though it frightened her to believe otherwise.

"Do you doubt the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix asked her sister dangerously, even though Voldemort only stood a few feet from them, watching the whole thing with the cold enjoyment of a school teacher punishing a troublesome child.

"Of cause she doesn't!" Lucius said swiftly and sharply, clearly angry but whether at Bellatrix or Draco the blond boy wasn't sure. "The Dark Lord's word is absolute. But perhaps there has been a mistake, My Lord; Draco would never do such a disgraceful thing. He knows better, he knows his worth."

"I know her's." Draco was unable to stop himself from growling through gritted teeth; however, everyone still heard every word and his family grew silent, processing what this meant. While Voldemort and a furious Draco eyed each other before the former spoke.

"There is no mistake; your son is a Bloodtraitor. He has aided and abetted the Mudblood Jones countless times through the years, helping her to escape my clutches in the process, and now believes to have feelings for her." Voldemort said disdainfully and nothing more was said from the trio behind Draco, all of which were shocked or disgusted into silence. Gaining no satisfaction from this and knowing that this lesson was far from taught, Voldemort swept forwards, his fury at Draco now visibly evident on his face, though Draco still continued to maintain fierce and steady eye contact.

"And if these crimes were not despicable enough, as though you had not shamed your family enough, Draco, by this sordid attachment, you continue to betray them and me still! Tell me, do you recognise this?" the dark wizard asked, producing from his robes what appeared to be a letter. Draco said nothing as Voldemort waited for an answer, recognising the letter as the one he had written to Ivy to warn her of Nagimi, who had alerted Voldemort and the Death Eaters to Potter's presence in Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve. He didn't even pause to wonder how Voldemort had gotten hold of it, he only stood there.

Defiant, Draco refused to admit that it was his letter, he might be overcome with rage and contempt for the man before him but he still had his brain, he knew what admitting to writing the letter would mean for him, certain death, because that was betrayal the likes of which Voldemort could not let slide. Loving a Muggleborn was foolish and disgusting in his eyes, but could easily be pushed aside as a moment of weakness which simple torture would soon rid him of. Helping said Muggleborn to keep Potter and herself alive, going against the Dark Lord's orders and wishes, meanwhile, was not forgivable. This was why he didn't proudly admit to writing the letter, as someone else in his position might have done. However, at the same time he didn't deny that the letter was his, he was glad that he had written it, as Ivy had escaped with her life that day even though the chances had been agonisingly slim, and he was not about to hide his feelings any more.

"You dare to deceive me and assist my enemies!" Voldemort exclaimed furiously as he brandished the letter, which Draco didn't take, he only stood there firm and silent, seething and hating the creature that was standing in front of him. However, Narcissa quickly hastened forwards and took the parchment from the Dark Lord's grip, inspecting the handwriting, not that Voldemort paid her any mind.

Draco kept his gaze on Voldemort as his mother read the letter, not only because he had to keep the dangerous creature in his sight, but also because he couldn't look at her right then. Annoy him though she may, Draco really cared about his mother and her acceptance was important to him, however he knew where she stood on the subject of Muggleborns, and after what she had just done to Ivy, he wasn't sure he could stand to look at her and see the shame in her eyes. Though, as he stood before his master with a defiance he had never shown him before and which would surely have consequences, he could see his mother out of the corner of his eye, staring down at the parchment in her hands which Draco knew only had one word written on it, aside from Ivy's name, and that word was 'snake'. It was clearly a warning, and it was clearly written in Draco's hand, there was no denying that, however, Narcissa Malfoy seemed determined to do just that.

"No," she said, sounding a little faint with disbelief "no, it can't be true, Lucius is right, there must be some kind of mistake. Draco wouldn't," She said shaking her head and then quickly looking at her son, her voice becoming louder and more distressed "Draco, tell them that you wouldn't."

But Draco wouldn't tell them, he refused to, what was being said was the truth and he wasn't going to deny it. So he just stood there in silence, barely restraining his hurt and irritation at the way his mother spoke of his feelings, he had never really expected her to react well, but it still hurt to hear her voice filled with such revulsion at the idea. But he was struggling to dwell on that thought, his mother and other relatives' disgust was the least of his worries right then, he was furious, and growing more so by every passing second and he was sure that any moment now he would snap and do something reckless. Voldemort had told his parents! One of the most important secrets he had and he had thrown it to them in spite, expecting to punish Draco with it! But that wasn't all, Draco was still seething over Voldemort's invasion of his mind and was filled with a dangerous fear for Ivy's life, as he worried what this monster would do to her now he knew how Draco felt about her. With all that he was barely holding onto his composure, he knew his expression had to be giving away more than a little of his rage, and it took all he had not to reach for his wand.

"Have you nothing to say in your defence, Draco?" Voldemort asked degradingly, looking down at the boy before him with apparent repugnance, trying to force a reaction out of him. But still Draco remained silent, his whole body trembling with effort and fury.

"His silence proves his guilt!" Bellatrix exclaimed from behind Draco, sounding closer than he remembered her being earlier and making him wary of her.

"It most certainly does not!" Lucius denied, sounding almost as close as Bellatrix and livid at the besmirching accusation "Draco simply will not dignify this allegation with an answer. Draco is a Malfoy; Malfoy men do not fall in love with filthy Mudbloods!" Draco gritted his teeth then, biting back an enraged remark.

"I fear you are mistaken, Lucius, Draco has turned away from us, from me," Voldemort said silencing Bellatrix and Lucius' bickering but unable, even with his terrifying presence, to tear Narcissa's gaze away from her son, as she looked at him as though for the first time, still clutching the letter. "And we cannot allow that."

Draco stiffened, but other than that showed no signs of the fear inspired by those words, for he simply stood all the straighter, relying on the rage pumping through his veins to fuel his next words "I'm ready." Draco said somewhat croakily though he sounded no less adamant for it, and he stood there, head held high and back straight, looking evil and hatred firmly in the eye, though his hands trembled at the thought of his punishment.

Voldemort flashed as mocking, sadistic grin, as though he doubted Draco's words very much, and managing to take Draco off guard he instantly drew his wand and turned it on the young man.

"Crucio!" he hissed, sending a jet of light as quick and devastating as lightening at Draco.

Narcissa Malfoy's screams echoed piercingly through the sitting room as her son doubled over in agony, but Draco hardly heard them, so lost in a world or hurt and darkness he could never have imagined. None of his other senses worked, he couldn't see a thing as he screwed his eyes shut against the pain, his ears were defended as the pain consumed him and the only thing he could feel was the curse taking instant effect. It was physical agony the likes of which Draco had never experienced before, he was completely unprepared for it, he may have suffered greatly since his and Ivy's separation but that anguish had been emotional, equal to if not more than this but on a different level entirely, this was a completely different kind of pain. He couldn't function, nothing worked any more, while he could carry on almost as normal while forever feeling as though his heart was dying, he couldn't do anything under the torture Voldemort was inflicting.

He felt as though every inch of his skin was being cut by burning knives, over and over again, there was no rest from it, no pause, only pain, and Draco was surprised that he couldn't feel blood running down his skin. His insides, felt as though they were being twisted and ripped from inside out, callously torn apart as though by starving wild dogs, which never grew tired or bored. In amongst this blinding torture Draco sank to his knees, biting his lips until they bled to keep from screaming out in agony, the cries were swelling up though, ready to be released or to explode from Draco's throat, and in an effort to keep them down he pressed his chin against his chest, keeping his head down as though to hide his pain. He couldn't take it though, the stabbing and ripping was merciless and the pain only intensified with each passing second, it was becoming too much but still he refused to give Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing him scream, and the arm his hand wrapped around his chest he pulled away to press his palms against the carpet. Digging his nails into the harsh fibres he lent forwards, arching his back and bending almost into a ball as vocalised shots of pain escaped his trembling lips. Then he could hold it in no more, and an agonised cry burst from him with the force of an atomic bomb as his chest racked with dry sobs and his pale eyebrows scowled in distress and rage.

When the pain stopped, Draco was barely conscious, panting heavily he tried weakly to come back to his senses and take note of what was happening to him, however, from where he knelt with his head resting against the floor, the only thing Draco was sure of was his mother's anxious touch on his back.

"No more, please, I beg you, no more!" She pleaded ardently from where she was by Draco's side, the only one to come to his aid. "He's just a boy! He doesn't know what he's doing!" Draco didn't need to look at his mother to know that she was crying, he could hear it clearly in her croaking voice, and this shocked him, even in his damaged state, his mother never cried.

"Do not challenge me, Narcissa," Voldemort said threateningly, the malice clear in his voice though Draco's mother made no move to leave his side, and Draco couldn't help but feel her go up in his estimations for that. "The boy must learn what it means to cross me, to betray Lord Voldemort. I will not be disobeyed!"

Chest still heaving Draco turned his head from where he rested, his cheek against the carpet, and looked up at Voldemort through glazed eyes. He needed to do no more than that, than look at the sick malevolence on his supposed master's face, to decide what he had to do next. Expression set firmly in hatred and disobedience Draco slowly pushed himself up, feeling the world spin around him as an after effect of his torture, but he didn't let that stop him. Sitting upright on his knees with his mother looking distressed and frantic by his side, one hand resting on his shoulder and the other reaching for his hand which, despite regaining his affection for her, he would not give her, Draco fixed his determined gaze upon the Dark Lord. And with his father and aunt watching on in confusion and his mother regarding him with worry, Draco spoke.

"What comes next?" he asked boldly, expecting the worst but prepared to face it, despite how fear gripped at his heart and held it tight. On his right his mother whimpered, her frightened face turning away from Draco to look up at Voldemort beseechingly, but Draco knew it would do no good, Voldemort wanted to punish him and there was nothing she could do. However, what Voldemort did do next, no one was expecting.

"You recall, surely, Draco the time I told you of the virtues of killing two birds with one stone?" Voldemort said abruptly, much to everyone's stunned surprise, as he looked down at Draco with a neutral expression in place, though there was something burning in his eyes again and there was nothing steady about his voice. Staring up at the Dark Lord in furious confusion Draco recalled, vaguely, Voldemort mentioning something similar the day he made him torture Rowle, it had been a punishment for both of them. And with this in mind Draco was instantly on his guard.

"Well," Voldemort continued coldly "you see, I need to punish you, you cannot think that I will let you get away with this atrocity." He said, bringing his wand across the rest atop his left hand while he still gripped it with the other and looking down at Draco like some tyrannical king beholding a criminal subject. "But I also need to get your little love to join my side, to give up her information. Perhaps, it is time to bring back the old method."

Draco's heart roared back to life then, the caged beast that had been recovering from the effects of the invasion and the torture, two attacks so quick in succession, quickly sprang to its feet and raced to the end of the metal tether that kept it restrained, pulling and growling with all its might. He's going to hurt her, Draco's internal voice snarled in outrage; he's going to hurt her to get back at me, to punish me for what I've done! Despite this furious alarm Draco managed to keep a cool exterior, expertly hiding the rage bubbling just beneath the surface.

"Why bother?" he asked calmly, his voice sounding nonchalant even to his own ears, though he knew he was anything but. "You don't need her here to punish me, and when she finds out that her only choice is join you or die I'm sure she'll act to save herself. She's a Gryffindor, not an idiot."

"Lies!" Voldemort exclaimed, breaking out of his dignified stance and bending down threateningly to where Draco knelt, fury written plainly on his face. Draco fought with all he had not to cringe, not to shy away from Voldemort or to show any of the fear that was causing his insides to quake, his mother, meanwhile, let out a gasp and held him tighter, as though this would protect him.

"You and I both know that is not the case, Draco!" He hissed warningly from where he was, standing right before Draco, just inches from his face "She's infuriatingly stubborn, lest you forget!" Voldemort spat, turning what Draco was sure were his own words or thoughts back around on him "She'd sooner die than join me, this Jones, and you know it! But, we'll see if we can't break her resolve."

"Leave her al…" Draco began to threaten, all fear for himself pushed aside in the wake of Voldemort's very direct threat towards Ivy, Draco refused to sit by and watch her be hurt. But he didn't get the chance to finish his impassioned cry, or to do anything else against Voldemort, as it was too late; the Dark Lord had already hit him with the devastating curse.

**Ivy**

_"…let us begin our lesson then. What are you waiting for, Draco? Bring up our guest." _

Hearing these words, echoing down to me from Voldemort's lips as the several speedy footsteps could he heard overhead, had me up and on my feet in an instant, lifted up by the fear that was rapidly filling me up like air into a balloon, only in the worst possible way. I felt as though I might bust from sheer horror, the pressure of my fear pressing so hard against my skin that it hurt, and with my heart pounding franticly against my ribs, pulsing fear round my body with each steady beat. The executioner's song, I thought as I stood still where I was, pounding in my chest once more. A thousand swear words ran through my mind as, quaking from head to toe; I glanced up at the ceiling with wide, terrified eyes. They're coming for me; HE'S coming for me! Oh God, I'm so dead. I thought as I quickly stumbled backwards, hands desperately reaching behind me through the darkness and my eyes lowering from the ceiling to where I knew the door was, with every step I took. I didn't stop until my hands found the cold dampness of the ancient wall, and keeping my arms tight by my side I pressed my back against the chill stone in an effort to get as far away from the door as possible, and to give myself something to hold onto, as the answering voice sounded clearly from above.

"Yes, My Lord," came Draco's obedient and emotionless reply, and with those three short words I felt whatever hope I might have been hoarding sink like a stone to the pit of my stomach, weighing heavily there with my dread. I didn't know what I was expecting, I knew Draco was a Death Eater and what side he had chosen, but apparently there was still a part of me that hoped that he still (if he had ever) cared enough about me to want to get me out of this alive. However, obviously this incessant naivety was wrong; he was coming to get me.

Gripping at the crevices in the wall I listened to the footsteps sounding overhead as Draco made his way out of the room, no one else said a word as he left so each even footfall resounded like a thunderous bang in my head, deafening. Come on Ivy, I encouraged myself desperately as I was in danger of losing myself, think girl, think! You need to protect yourself. Frantic I glanced around in the darkness as the footsteps overhead picked up speed, but even as looked around, my hair whipping around my head and stinging my still bloodied cheek with my effort, I knew there was nothing out there. Not unless I stabbed him with the nail and hoped he got an infection from the germs on it, I thought almost sarcastically, or clouted him over the head with the empty water jug. I stopped still in my panicking then, thinking that wasn't actually a bad idea, the water jug could make a fairly decent weapon. And so, using the wall as a guide and cursing the absence of my wand, I quickly made my way back to where I had left the jug, my shoes making sharp echoing slaps on the floor as I ran. However, the sound of dress shoes hitting the stone steps sent thrills of fear through me and I quickened my pace. I didn't make it in time though.

The door to the cellar was suddenly unlocked and thrown open without any kind of warning, no shouted threat like there had been last time, and in order to look innocent and harmless I quickly threw myself back against the wall, pressing my hands and back against the stone once more and looking towards the door in restrained fear. What I saw there made my heart stop still in my chest. Draco Malfoy, in all his imposing glory, stood there in the open doorway, his silvery blond hair an uncharacteristic mess around his head, his complexion deathly pale and waxen, and framed by an angelic beam of light drifting down from the upper floor. However, despite all the brilliant shinning colours, there was nothing divine about this man. He wasn't here to help me, he was no guardian angel summoned here on my behalf, it was the devil that had sent him down for me and I was in deep, deep sulphur now. Stop it, I quickly chastised myself, enough with the religious comparisons, Voldemort isn't the devil (just a satanic man), Draco isn't a demon (but for in my own head) and I'm certainly no angel, and it's overtly morbid to think otherwise. Even if I am in for a hellish experience here.

Draco didn't say a word as he stalked into the cellar, because that was exactly what he did, he STALKED into the room with a menace that I had never seen in him before, and I couldn't help but feel afraid and to wonder how much he had changed these past few months. Heart pounding again I pressed myself flat against the wall as a small, cruel smile played across Draco's lips and there was a strange glistening in his eyes, that I almost missed in the dim light. However, as I suppressed a shudder and the tall, dignified traitor strode ever closer, I quickly got a hold of myself and shook myself mentally. What the Hell am I doing? I asked herself furiously. Cowering away from him like this, I've not been afraid of him for years and I'll be damned if I start again now! He's the one who should be scared of me, I thought with more bravery than I actually felt, but a whole lot of foolish fury, as though my rage alone would be enough to protect me against an enemy with a wand. However, this determination was all I had to cling to and for that reason I held onto it desperately, barely keeping myself from breaking down, and if I did, I wouldn't know if it was from fury, hurt, or pure exhaustion. It was all getting too much now, I was sick of it, tired of always having to be strong, of having to put up a brave face, I wanted to give in, to make things easier for myself, but I simply couldn't, I didn't work that way, I couldn't give up now and my friends needed me.

So, jaw clenched and trembling fiercely, I held my head a little higher, stuck out my chest and put on my accustomed glare, all in an effort to show him that I wasn't scared of him, that I could look after myself and that if he knew what was good for him he would just turn around and walk away. Draco seemed to see right through this act though, not that it made me any more inclined to give it up, and he just continued to advance on me, painfully slowly and dragging out my hidden fears as though he could see to my very soul, where I had buried it. Pushing off from the wall I balled my hands into fists, half prepared to fight him if I had to, and stood by my own power and a little taller, trying to inject more courage into me but unsure of how successful I was, as one feeling was slowly beginning to take over me. Something wasn't right here, I could sense it, something was off and I just couldn't put my finger on it, the answer was on the edge of my consciousness but I wasn't sure I could risk a vision to make sense of it, not right now. Draco's strange behaviour was frightening me more than I cared to admit, there was something unnerving about the light in his eyes, almost as though he were possessed, but I told myself that slightly mad look he wore was part of what he was now. Being a cold, merciless killer obviously had some physical effect, Voldemort was proof of that.

"Stay back," I warned in a clear, hateful voice as this crazed Draco neared me, looking like a fox cornering its prey, which was a scenario I refused to let myself think about. "I swear, if you come any closer, you traitorous bastard, I'll make you regret letting that twat upstairs doodle on your arm! You can be sure of it!"

Draco had no reaction to my words, not unless you counted tilting his head in a disturbingly predatory way, and just carried on towards me, causing another shock of fear to rush through me and sparking me to wonder if he'd been like this earlier. I was sure that he hadn't, I was sure that he'd almost seemed normal just, what… an hour ago, had it all been an act? Was this wild killer the real Draco now? As crazy as his aunt and as savage as his master? The mere thought caused my stomach to roll and my heart to ache agonisingly in my chest, until I reminded myself that he'd probably been this way all along, that the way he had been with me had probably just been an act, that he was finally able to let his crazy urges free and I needed to protect myself. So, hardening my momentarily wavering expression as Draco drew alarmingly close, I backed up against the wall again but brought up my fisted hands in a boxer's pose, ready to attack if necessary, and it looked like it would be necessary. Should have jinxed him when I had the chance, I thought, remembering how I had had the opportunity to hit him with a spell upstairs but had opted to be the bigger person instead. Right lot of good that was doing me now.

"I mean it, Malfoy!" I sneered his name through gritted teeth "I'll hit you so hard you'll never have to worry about family planning if you take another step!" I threatened and was more than just a little surprised and satisfied to see that an expressionless Draco came to a gradual stop a very short distance before me, and regarded me for a moment. "Right," I said, in a slightly shocked voice as I knocked as stand of hair out my eyes without moving my hands and focused my gaze on him "good." I continued, thinking this was too easy, that he wasn't just going to stop there and let me escape, unless he really was as insane as he looked. I was just about to test the theory and make a break for it when he acted though.

"Incarcerous!" Draco hissed suddenly, taking me completely by surprise as lengths of magical rope shot out of his wand, quicker than I could move and bound me with my hands to my chest, all the way around my middle. Still oddly expressionless, though in truth I was too busy letting out a string of profanities and trying to get over the shock of his attack, to really notice how he looked, Draco started quickly towards me and seized hold of the rope that bound me from waist to chest.

Feet scraping against the floor, I dug my heels into the ground as for what felt like the hundredth time today, I was dragged off against my will. Struggling with all my might I fought profusely against my bonds as a silent Draco roughly yanked me forwards and I staggered to a stop by his side. Without so much as a word or a glance in my direction, my tall blond captor, with his knuckles grazing my stomach where his fingers held my rope, started to pull me towards the door. Struggling along beside him I planted my feet down firmly on the floor.

"Oh no you don't," I growled under my breath as Draco jerked to a stop, unable to pull me forwards with me dispersing all my weight down like this, and as he turned back to face me, with what for a moment I almost thought was a flash of ruby red in his eyes, and went to force me along by other means, I waited until he was standing right by me again before I made my move. Quickly, and taking him completely off guard, I ducked down, and as Draco struggled to keep his grip on my rope from this new angle, I swiftly struck forwards, shoulder barging him right in the stomach. As Draco doubled over in agony, his grip on the rope slipping, I suddenly shot upright and in one fluid movement knocked his feet out from under him.

He didn't go down, but he did stumble, and that was all I needed to make a break for the door, still bound by the ropes but hell bent of reaching the stairs and running for my life. But, of course, I never made it that far. In what seemed like an instant, Draco was sprinting by my side, running level with me and then knocking me sideways. Staggering but managing to keep my balance, I crashed backwards into the side wall and couldn't stop the groan that escaped my lips as my back arched and my head throbbed from the force of the impact. But I couldn't think about that for long, as just as quickly as he'd caught me up, Draco was right before me, pinning me to the wall with his hands on either side of my head. As I stared at his black-clad chest a thousand ideas ran through my head, so many different ways I could escape, ranging from kneeing him where it hurt to distracting him with something altogether more pleasantly painful, not just for him but for me too. However, as I rose my narrowed gaze to his face, upon which there was a sumptuously mischievous smile that sent my heart fluttering despite all the malice in his eyes, all my plans flew out of my mind away to where I could never reach them. I couldn't think, I could barely breathe with him this close; he filled up all my senses and had my scared heart banging away against my chest in insane longing. Oh God, I thought as my breath caught in my throat as he lent in closer to me, there's something seriously wrong with me. How can he keep doing this to me? Even now, after all he's done, why do I STILL have this reaction to him?

Sucking in a deep ragged breath I fought off my teenage emotions as best I could, but it still fell pitifully short of what I needed to function. Memories were surfacing, raw, exquisite memories I tried every day to forget, but I couldn't keep them down, they broke free of my safe guards and wrapped me up in their old, obsolete emotions, even though fear still coursed through me. I couldn't help, even beaten and bruised by love and betrayal though I was, but recall the last time we had been in this kind of position. And all at once that night in the Astronomy classroom came flooding back to me, and I had to wrestle with my thoughts to keep the flashes and sensations of our last kiss from distracting me. Hating my weakness I couldn't move, couldn't fight, as Draco just stood there with me pinned against the wall, looking every inch the cat who'd caught the canary (though I despised the thought of being a victim here) from his flashing eyes to his devilish, wicked grin. I couldn't beat him, there was no way of escape, he had me exactly where he wanted me and was just playing with me until he dragged me upstairs to his master. Rational parts of my brain were screaming at me to run, to fight, to do something, but I knew deep down there was nothing I could do, and while I was usually the queen of stupid impulsive actions, I couldn't bring myself to fight today. There was no point, the other voices were saying, they've got you, you might as well just enjoy it. And, shamefully, that was exactly what I was doing, regardless of the terror pumping through my veins, it felt incredibly good to just stand here, passion and high emotions, (not love, I couldn't let myself feel that any more) running riot through me and just letting myself let go. It was exhilarating, a welcome relief, I'd been fighting my emotions for months now and I was tired, I wanted it to stop.

Lost in a world or worrying thoughts and frantic feelings, I could only watch as Draco's gaze raked over my face, allowing myself to do what at any other time I would have loathed myself for. I imagined that the circumstances were different, that Draco wasn't a psychotic Death Eater about to take me to be murdered, that he was the same boy I had known and loved at Hogwarts, and that he actually cared about me too. It was easier and much more palatable than the truth, however pathetic it was to pretend like this. It was as I was thinking this, trying to quell the last of the feeble warnings, that I noticed something strange in Draco's expression, a jerky twitching and the way his brows kept furrowing and then straightening out. Staring at him in what was the most startling emotion of the day, honest to God fear for him, I watched as his jerking grew more noticeable, more violent, and Draco's brilliant blue eyes flicked about my face, his expression going from indifferent, to alarmed, to hungry, to angry, almost like he was warring with himself. I didn't shy away from this, I didn't cringe in fright because, the way I saw it, it did me no good to be afraid of him, and I was almost asking him what was wrong when the twitching and jerking reached its peak and Draco was suddenly still. Looking at me intently for a long moment, almost as though he had just surfaced from a daze, his dazzling gaze almost seeming to drink me in, then a look of horror suddenly overcame Draco's face and, quick as a flash, he removed his hands from the wall by my head so that he was cupping both my cheeks instead. His expression nothing short of terrified and with a frantic air Draco lent in even closer, until he was just inches away from me and staring right into my wide eyes.

"Fight," he said in a strained voice before suddenly throwing his head back in agony and starting to twitch again, coming out of my frozen state I couldn't help but want to reach for him, however I was still bound by the rope and couldn't. When the twitching stopped and after I had called his name a few times Draco dropped his head forward, looking exhausted and with his pale blond hair sticking to his damp forehead.

"Draco?" I questioned cautiously, and suddenly the flashing blue gaze that had been downcast before, flicked up at me and it took all I had not to jump at the madness there. Seeing my alarm a slow sadistic grin wound its way across Draco's face, and the blond boy leisurely lifted his head.

**Author note: so there it is, chapter seventeen, this was a bit of a tough one to write, so I'd love to know what you guys thought to it. Also, I'll be very surprised if any of this actually makes sense to anyone but me, it's my first week of work this week and I've been getting up at five every day, so I've been writing kind of half asleep all week. The job is just until I go to Uni (hopefully) in September, but I'm pretty sure getting up that early is taking its toll.**

**Anyway, enough of my complaining, did you guys all see the trailer? I was pretty chuffed with it myself, what did you lot think?**


	18. Lifeless

**Chapter eighteen: Lifeless**

**Ivy**

It was as though I was lost in a surreal nightmare. Barely clinging onto my wits, I stumbled through the polished double doors that led to the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, my tangled hair blowing back off my bloody face and leaving my stomach behind in the corridor. I couldn't understand it, it didn't make sense, and I was struggling to work out what had just happened, as hard as I was trying to stay on my feet. I staggered to a clumsy stop, uninterested in the four people standing intimidating at the other end of the room. I could feel their harsh gazes upon me but I paid them no mind, too busy glancing curiously over my shoulder at Malfoy, who was now striding into the room behind me. Frowning in intense and overwhelming confusion, I tried uselessly to wrap my brain around it. As the niggling sense of uncertainty tricked through me uncomfortably, I thought about what had just happened, about how strange Draco had been acting, how different he had seemed, and I couldn't make sense of it. Draco was Imperiused; he had to be, never in all the time I had known him had he ever looked like that, so predatory and dark. He had looked half mad when he cornered me in the cellar and the strange fit of twitching, followed by the warning to run, seemed to prove my theory. He had been acting deranged down in the darkness of the cellar, like he was possessed or something, and unless I had never known the guy at all (though that was quite likely); there had definitely been something wrong with him.

However, to look at him now, in the low light blazing in the hearth and up out of the creepy basement, he looked exactly the same as he always had. Arrogant, proud and controlled, he had his head held high and looked through practically everyone and everything with an air of self-importance. He was behaving exactly how I remembered, how he used to be before everything changed. The sinister grin was gone and there were no red flashes in his eyes, in fact, if it wasn't for the fact that I was still shivering despite being out of the chill room, and the slight and otherwise inexplicable fluttering of my heart, I might have said I had imagined it all. But I hadn't, I knew what I had seen and what I had seen wasn't Draco at all, not unless he was playing around and he certainly hadn't been then, not in the way he would have done before anyway. I knew that it was possible that Draco had changed (I knew best of all that he could), that being around these creeps long enough could have given him more manic tendencies to go along with his thirst for power, and that there was also a good chance that he had always had that in him, that madness. But I didn't know, I just didn't believe it. Even after all he'd done there was still a part of me that wanted to believe that Draco wasn't all bad. Now don't get me wrong, I hate the guy with the burning passion of a thousand suns, and standing there now I made no attempt to hide the contempt I felt for him, but, I still felt there was something off here, that borderline harassment and demonic behaviour simply wasn't Draco. However, I wasn't prepared to stake my life on the chance that Draco had been possessed by Voldemort down in the cellar, not when there was every chance that he'd been acting on his own free will. And besides, he was certainly himself now, I thought as he reached me with a look of cold superiority on his face, and he wasn't making a single move to help me.

"Ah," came Voldemort's theatrical voice from behind me, causing me to start and reminding me that I had a deadly audience. I quickly span around to see Voldemort, Bellatrix, Narcissa and Lucius standing there, the latter two a little way off from the others and regarding me with curious looks of contempt that I didn't fully understand. "If it isn't our esteemed guest, Miss Jones, bring her forward Draco, don't the two of you stand there in the middle of the room like that, bring her forwards for your family to see. That's it."

Draco's pale fingers wrapped obediently around the rope about my middle, and I had just the time to shoot him a disgusted and loathsome look before he was callously dragging me forwards. I struggled against him, even though I knew there was no point, there was nowhere I could run to and there was enough of them to take me out easily, but I had to fight him, I hated this position too much to do anything else and my pride wouldn't allow me to just let him control me. He did though. When the two of us came to jerky stop in front of a regal seeming Voldemort, I tried and failed to shrug off Draco's grip, and sent him one last furious glare, as he stared seriously ahead, before turning my unflinching glower upon the monster in front of me, rather than the traitor by my side. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't terrified, looking up at this sick murderer, whose face had been the last earthly thing so many innocent people had ever seen and who regarded human life with so little respect, but I refused to let any of my horrified fear show. I just glowered at him, my teeth gritted in hatred for the man who had murdered my friend's parents, who was the reason my own family's lives were in danger, who had taken my old friend from me as well, and I did my best to stay brave.

"Disappointing," Voldemort said in an unimpressed tone as he inspected me coldly "I expected more from the Mudblood who's been causing me so much trouble," he said somewhat menacingly as he reached out and took hold of my chin with his bony, skeletal fingers so that he could inspect my face better.

Disgusted I felt my lip curl in revulsion and tried to jerk away, however his grip on me was firm and my attempts earned me nothing but his nails digging into my skin, not that that stopped me. "Passable features, but Muggle parents of course, no connections, and an unruly attitude. I cannot understand it," he said sounding thoroughly unimpressed and with his gaze flicking to Draco, as though he was addressing him now and not me. Though Draco, I noticed, wasn't looking at him and had walked to stand by his parents mutely, leaving me here with Voldemort.

"How can such a pitiful creature threaten my plans so, it is inconceivable, and I am starting to consider you are not as dangerous as I have been led to believe, little Seer." Voldemort continued purposefully, his red gaze heavy on me again but confusing me with his words, there was an obvious hidden meaning behind them all, but I couldn't understand what it was.

"Get. Off. Me." I hissed irately and, displeased, Voldemort abruptly backed off, though his still held on tightly to my chin and nipped it with his pointed nails before he suddenly let go and, quick as a cobra strike, backhanded me across the face.

My head snapped to the side sharply as the sickening clap echoed in my ears and my cheek began to instantly prickle with the force of it, starting off dull but working up into an aching throb that made my eyes sting with tears that I refused to shed. My gaze instantly and pathetically sought out Draco's, even now standing before him as a lowly prisoner I still expected him to show some remorse or to have some kind of reaction, however he didn't, and Draco's face remained firmly impassive. It hurt twice as much as any other slap I had received that day, and I'd felt a fair few, but I refused to show it, and aside from the red mark undoubtedly forming on my face, the only bodily reaction I had to the assault was to tightened my jaw and righten my head wordlessly. Voldemort was watching me intently as I did this, as though still trying to figure out whatever it was about me that he couldn't understand, and judging by the slight frown he wore I guessed that he was no closer to figuring it out. As I stood there, clinging to my composure, I caught sight of my other tormentors, Bellatrix, who was the closest, looked positively livid, not to mention repulsed, as she scowled at me from behind her master, a wand (probably one of my friends since they had made off with her own) held tightly in her grip and an expression in place that clearly said how much she wanted to use it on me.

If it had just been Bellatrix's reaction, the furious disgust, then I might have understood things, she was clearly livid about Harry escaping right from under her nose and I was the only one left she could still take her anger out on, it was to be expected from a lunatic like her. However, while I expected Narcissa and Lucius to be furious as well their expressions were entirely different, both regarded me with a look of deep, deep bewilderment, as though, like Voldemort, they was trying to figure me out but they just couldn't make sense of me, it was unnerving to have them watch me like that, especially when you added their looks of deep disgust to the mix as well. And there was something more to the way Narcissa watched me too; she seemed troubled, conflicted almost, and kept glancing at Draco anxiously, as though expecting something. Well she was the only one of us who did, I thought, feeling yet more betrayal and anger as I looked at the indifferent boy, who I had once felt so passionately for, looking down at me from across the room, an expression of intense boredom and his face in the wake of my distress, that cut as deep as any knife. But I quickly mastered my emotions, reminded myself that I didn't give a crap about Draco, and wondered if the young Death Eater was schizophrenic too, what with his opposing emotions, and losing all the sympathy and hope I had been feeling for him before.

"This way," Voldemort commanded degradingly, noticing that I was staring at the others, and with a swift flick of his wand I felt my head turn abruptly to face him, as though it had been pushed roughly by an invisible hand. "Look at me, not him; I'm the one upon whom your future rests now." Humiliated I glared at him, but said nothing as tried to fight the bubbling hysteria rising inside of me, as the situation I was in dawned on some oh-so- useful part of me and I felt my panic levels increase.

I was living my nightmare, the very thing I had been dreading ever since Boxing Day of last year, the day I found out that Draco had been lying to me and that Voldemort wanted me for my visions. I was here - in Malfoy Manor - alone, frightened, captured by Death Eaters and at this monsters non-existent mercy as I waited for him to attack, as he surely would. And, to top it all off, Draco was even here, watching dispassionately as I was about to be assaulted. In fact, the only way this could have gotten any worse would have been if the drawing room doors were to suddenly open and my family and friends were to be dragged in by yet more Death Eaters. I shuddered at the very idea, glad, for the first time since I had begun to resent Dobby not returning, that I was alone here and no one else was getting hurt, how would I have been able to keep my head then? I was hardly even managing now. No, they were better off far away from here, and I suddenly found myself hoping that my friends would do the smart thing and leave me here, even though I still would have appreciated a rescue attempt. My horrified movement hadn't gone unnoticed by Voldemort, and as I battled with my ever growing fear he narrowed his gaze, observing me, before making whatever decision he was pondering and drawing his wand.

"Let us see what you know then, oh great Seer," Voldemort said mockingly, training his wand on me and causing my heart to stutter in my chest out of terror, before quickly racing desperately, pounding violently against my ribcage as though trying to escape my endangered body. "Legilimens!"

I braced myself, sucking it a quick sharp breath and waiting for the spell to hit, for Voldemort to burst my mind wide open and invade my head. The thought made me feel sick, the very idea of him looking through my mind, my memories, had me in a rage but there was nothing I could do, I was bound before him and I had never bothered to learn Occlumency, not after finding out how hard Harry had found it. Really, that was a particularly stupid decision on my part, especially when you thought about the number of visions I had seen during my life and how valuable they could be to people, especially dark wizards like Voldemort. It seemed careless and risky to have left my mind vulnerable like this. Even if I didn't know much there was no telling what might be of use to Voldemort, and what consequences that could bring. Before I could stop myself I thought about the visions I had had in the cellar, of the room filled with gold and my friends running down a tunnel towards a dragon, not to mention the lengthy vision I had had the day of Dumbledore's funeral, and all at once I was adamant that Voldemort didn't see that, that he shouldn't see that. And needing no more reason, I abruptly prepared to fight him off, to barricade my mind against him even though I didn't know how, he simply couldn't see my visions, it was too dangerous, too many people could be hurt. So, tense and edgy I gritted my teeth and waited, ready to force Voldemort from my mind and do anything I could to keep him from seeing my visions, however, as I stood there waiting, expecting something to happen, nothing did.

Furious Voldemort let out a noise like a hiss and, pulling his wand away in an angry movement, rounded on the Malfoy's standing by the wall. Narcissa jumped, her hands reaching for her son (I was too anxious and confused to roll my eyes) and Lucius stiffened, however Draco had no reaction and was cool and collected when Voldemort glared at him.

"You told me that she didn't know Occlumency!" He snapped as he trained his wand on Draco and my heart stop in my chest, confused, concerned and increasingly irritated I felt myself scowl as Voldemort started towards him "You dare to lie to your master, Draco?"

Eyes widening I felt my mouth drop open a little as I stood there, why that son of a… he'd been telling Voldemort stuff about me! He'd been feeding his master all the information he knew about me! What a….how dare he…has he got no bloody morals! You sound surprised, a part of me asked as I fumed indignantly, struggling with this new concept. It's almost as if you didn't expect him to do this, the voice continued, like you didn't know that this lowlife Death Eater would sell all your secrets to this monster. Wasn't that the very reason he was spending time with you in the first place? So he could get information on you and find out what you knew? Of course he's told him everything, he'll have done it gleefully as soon as he got away from Hogwarts; trading your secrets- your life - for his own continued rise to power! I stood there in silent fury, as all the scattered pieces of my rage, each one dedicated to a different crime on his part, came together to intensify the hurt and fury of this one, making both it and my contempt stronger than ever, while Voldemort flicked his wand at Draco.

"It was not a lie, my Lord," Draco said in a respectful monotone as I glared at him and his parents looked on in worry "Jones never did learn Occlumency, it was beyond her capabilities."

"Like ethics are beyond yours?" I snapped irately before I could stop myself, showing plainly my distress and how deeply this was affecting me, highlighting my weakness, which was something you should never do in front of Voldemort. As, still looking furious but apparently believing Draco's words, the snake-like creature slowly and menacingly turned back to face me.

Trying to recover myself I toned down the look of fury on my face, but still scowling I stood tall and defiant where I stood, while Draco's latest treachery ripped at my heart. Voldemort began to stalk across the room towards me, and with the Malfoy's (but Draco) and Bellatrix watching me with strange mixtures of disgust, hate and confusion still on their faces, I fought to stay strong. My minutes were numbered, I knew that, once Voldemort invaded my mind and took from me what he wanted there would be no point in my continued presence here, unless he wanted to carry on using me to aid his cause, and frankly I think I'd rather die. That had been partly why I was being so bold and insolent towards him, because I knew he'd kill me anyway and I might as well go down still holding my pride. So, once again shaking on the inside but firm and collected on the out, I waited.

"Feeling betrayed?" Voldemort asked bitingly as he snaked closer "Feeling hurt that your beloved deceived you so, that he's told us all your little secrets, Mudblood?"

Taking a steadying breath, I gulped, trying not to let it show how close Voldemort's words were hitting to home, as I struggled for control of myself and looked boldly up at him.

"I'm not feeling surprised," I said in a cold clear voice "Draco's always been a snake in the grass, a twitchy little ferret with no morals, and as for him being my 'beloved'," I said with severe and almost mocking doubt as I sent a disgusted glance at the boy who was looking at me emotionlessly. Well, I thought, we'll see who can be the biggest twat then wont we, it's not like I've got anything else to lose. "That'll be the day."

Across the room Narcissa's gaze fixed its self firmly on me, her ice queen eyes seeming to burn with something that I couldn't quite understand as she looked at me, and in response I quickly raised my eyebrows in a 'what?' kind of way, however, I stopped and looked away when I recognised the motion as one of Draco's. Resisting the urge to blush I mentally kicked myself.

"What do you know about love anyway?" I said, raising my gaze from the floor and in an effort to save face as I remembered something Dumbledore had frequently told Harry, that Voldemort didn't understand love.

A cruel grin spread out across Voldemort's face then and his red eyes seemed to darken, at which point I realised how my statement could have been received and scowled at my own idiocy. Great, just bloody great, I was about to die any second now and Draco and everyone in this room thought I was still in love with him, well, if that wasn't EXACTLY how I wanted to be remembered in my final moments.

"Very little, I must confess," Voldemort said in the politicians voice he had, all grand and theatrical "but I have no interest in studying fictitious emotions and passing fancies. Though clearly you think yourself an expert on the subject," he said sardonically before glancing over his shoulder at a mildly repulsed looking Draco and turning back to me to say "or maybe not."

Fuming, my chest rising and falling with indignation, I opened my mouth to say something biting in response but Voldemort bet me to it "enough of this nonsense. I only concern myself with facts and truths, Seer; let us see if we can extract some of those from you." He said seriously, taking aim at me with his wand once more and before I could react in any way he hissed "Legilimens!"

I didn't brace myself this time, I didn't cringe or flinch, I only stood there, my feet planted firmly on the ground and my head held high and proud as I met Voldemort's gaze with fierce steady eyes. My teeth were clenched, my lips curling back in my furious disdain to show the bared whites of my teeth. I was sure I must have looked a right sight in that instant, savage what with my matted hair, bloody and bruising skin and the burning contempt spilling from my every pore. I was sure that the Malfoy's were repulsed and offended by my wild look but I didn't care, in fact I was glad of it, the visible portrayal of my inner anger suited me just fine and it made me look more vicious than I had any business looking. I hoped that it would help me to save-face when Voldemort invaded my thoughts; my fury was the only thing I had left in my arsenal. However as I stood there, ready and determined to take this all like a resolute martyr, and waited for the inevitable assault on my mind, once again nothing happened and my thoughts were my own. Confused but refusing to waver even the slightest in my fierce resolve, I watched as Voldemort's lips pressed into a tight line, almost disappearing and his red eyes widened in rage.

"Not an Occulmence, is she?" Voldemort hissed dangerously his eyes never leaving me as he strode towards me, a look of such menace on his face that I seriously wanted to take a step back, but my pride wouldn't allow it and I held my ground. Fighting the instinctive urge to tremble under the intense stare of such a frightening creature I held his gaze and looked up into the green-tinged face of Lord Voldemort as he came to a stop before me. I took a subtle but deep breath, trying not to show any fear at all. "Then why," he continued, his voice filling with more threat with every passing syllable "Can't I penetrate her mind?"

No one answered, and the silence was deafening, Voldemort clearly expected an answer, and there would surely be Hell to pay if he didn't get one, but none of us here could respond. A quick, frightened glance over his shoulder revealed the alarm on Narcissa and Lucius' faces as they couldn't give their master what he wanted and feared the consequences of that. Bellatrix meanwhile was barely containing her glee at my current state; a wide, sadistic grin twisted her features and she was quickly bobbing closer to Voldemort affectionately, as though she couldn't restrain her excitement and wanted to help him with my torture, however, she was smart enough to remain silent unless she could give Voldemort the answer he sought, and apparently she couldn't. Draco however, was just watching the scene before him, an aloof expression in place and making no move to account for the trouble he had caused by telling Voldemort things about me. Not that I expected him to.

"Impedimenta!" Voldemort roared, having enough of our silence and knocking me back with a brutal spell that forced the air from my lungs as it sent me tumbling, gracelessly, back.

Landing on the floor with a thud, and supressing a groan by biting down hard on my lip, I couldn't stop my eyes from scrunching up with pain as by back collided hard with the floor. Not about to just lay there and take this I quickly shot up into a sitting position, but that was all I had the time to do as Voldemort was already striding forwards, his wand pointed firmly at my chest. I froze, the only movement I was conscious of making the erratic beating of my heart, which was pounding all the fiercer in my chest. I had to wonder how it could still do that; how it could carry on with so much vigour after all it had been through, all the fear, all the love, all the hurt it had endured, it seemed impossible that it still had the will to carry on pumping. But my heart, like the rest of me, had to carry on trying.

"Tell me what you know, girl!" Voldemort hissed as he came to an abrupt stop before me, clearly dispensing with the old mind-invasion tactic as his wand tip rested threateningly against my jumper. "What have you Seen, what are Potter's plans and why can't I get into your mind? Tell me now and I will spare your pitiful, sordid life!"

Yeah, right, I thought as I stared up at him, all my fury, all my determination and bravery coming back to me in floods in the instant, because I knew, I knew this was what it came down to, give up information about my friends and put everyone's lives in danger, or die. That wasn't a choice, there was only ever one option I could take, and resolved I let every ounce of my contempt show plainly on my face as I glared up at him, my arms still bound tightly and uselessly by my sides, knowing that wouldn't make this any easier. But I had to do it.

"Piss off." I spat through gritted teeth, no fine speeches, no thoughtful condemnations, they would all be lost on him and this lot anyway, they couldn't be reasoned with, couldn't feel remorse, and I wasn't going to justify my refusal to help this monster. He could go to Hell for all I cared, these were my visions, my friends, my people, and I was going to protect them, whatever the consequences.

Voldemort, did not look pleased, and I wore by best 'I don't give a shit' expression as I regarded him adamantly from the floor. However, while Voldemort oozed silent fury in front of me, his twisted mind wrapping itself around my impudence, Bellatrix gasped and strode forwards.

"How dare you!" she bellowed, more wounded than her master was that I had just addressed him thus. "You filthy, vile, little Mudblood, how dare you speak to the Dark Lord that way?"

"Easily you contemptuous psychopath," I retorted with as much hatred as I could muster, my gaze flicking to an outraged Bellatrix just behind Voldemort, assessing the threat she posed, "and you can do the same as him, if you've got a brain of your own at all."

Bellatrix looked livid, her dark eyes a wide window of rage and her teeth bared to make her look a thousand times more feral than I ever could, however I didn't flinch, not even as she trained her wand on me, I refused to die cowering and submissive. Now if only Draco and his family would step forward then I could get them off my chest too, then I could really go out with a bang.

"Avada-!" Bellatrix started to screech however she never got to finish, as Voldemort quickly raised his wand arm to stop her.

"No," he said clearly, his ruby eyes fixed firmly upon me as he gave this order, but there was no mercy in his expression, only rage and intent, and I knew that by doing this he wasn't saving me, just damning me to something far worse. "We need her alive," he told a disgruntled Bellatrix as she hissed at me from over her masters shoulder "for now." He added menacingly and a sickening grin spread out across Bellatrix's face but I held fast to my courage and resolve, not about to give in now.

"Tell me what you've Seen." Voldemort demanded again and, setting my face in a firm scowl as I just glared up at him, I blatantly refused to tell him. There was a terrifying flash in Voldemort's eyes then suddenly he cried "Crucio!" and my word was suddenly encompassed by pain.

Agony, sheer, blinding agony, cut like a thousand tiny knifes at my already bruised skin. Clamping my lips tightly shut against the pain I threw back my head and screwed my eyes firmly shut, as wave after wave, stab after stab of anguish hit me. I fought, I fought with everything I had to maintain control, to keep myself from appearing weak, I couldn't stop the cringing, it was involuntary, instinctive, but I refused to let one single cry escape my lips. Flinching as the agony increased I jerkily bent forwards, curling in on myself, as though by doing so I could escape the pain, protect myself from the outside forces attacking me, even though it felt as though I was burning from the inside out. I brought my head down on my upraised knees and trembled with the force of maintaining control, as the ever increasing pain brought a scream bubbling up my throat and my lips quivered to let it out. I wanted to scream, to let some of this pain out vocally, I wanted to rid myself of it and to scream was the only way I could think to do it, but I wouldn't let myself, I had to be strong, I had to keep it in. I was struggling though, worn out by the distressing events of the day, so emotionally and physically drained that fighting and not giving in was getting harder and harder all the time. The pain was such that I couldn't see the point any more; I just wanted to give up.

I didn't think it would ever end, the torture seemed to drag on for an eternity but it could have been mere seconds as far as I knew, but somehow I doubted it, I was willing to bet that Voldemort was really letting me suffer here. Just as I was sure I could take no more, when I was certain I had reached my limit, the pain was suddenly lifted, and panting heavily I let my formerly tensed shoulders slump, my body go limp with relief and my chin drop heavily against my chest, pressing against the ring hidden beneath my collar. Then I remembered that I wasn't safe, that I wasn't out of the woods yet and that the Big Bad Wolf was still watching me. So tiredly, and with as much insolence as I could muster, I lifted my head to meet Voldemort's gaze, trying to show him that he hadn't beaten me, however, by the look on his face he clearly thought otherwise.

"If I didn't think it were a fluke," Voldemort said his voice full of arrogance and cold mirth "I might have understood the appeal you seem to hold. You didn't utter a single sound Mudblood, but then again perhaps it is because you have too few brain cells to properly understand the pain of the Cruciatus Curse. I might have said you had the power to back up your reckless and idiotic courage, but I know better, and next time we shall make you scream."

It wasn't a threat that hung in the, suddenly blurry, air between Voldemort and I then, it was a promise, next time he would break me, I knew it, it had taken almost all of the strength I had left to keep silent just then, I had nothing left to give. And he knew it. Panicking, but feeling oddly detached as I sat there on the floor, my heart pumping madly in fear but my head floating somewhere near the ceiling, I let my unfocused gaze drift over to where Draco stood with his parents, looking just as hard and impassive as before, my suffering having absolutely no effect on him. I couldn't stop it, my heart sank like a stone in my chest, all my emotional defences were down at the moment and I could do nothing to protect myself from his total and utter indifference. It hurt in ways that I couldn't describe. But I refused to succumb to the promethean misery threatening to take over me, I had to fight it, I had to keep calm and carry on, because if I didn't, then I'd finally lost control of absolutely everything, and I couldn't take that.

"Let me do it, my Lord," Bellatrix purred darkly, ghosting to her master's side as I looked up at them all from under my outgrowing fringe "I'll be sure to get a scream of out her, and you know how I favour this curse." She said with menace as clear as the excitement in her voice and, if it were possible, I felt even more afraid, knowing Bellatrix's history with the Cruciatus Curse well enough. But still, once again, I refused to show any weakness, and just sat there, trying not to sway too much.

"Indeed I do, Bellatrix," Voldemort said and Bellatrix beamed at me like the Cheshire Cat, but only if I were a mouse in a blue dress trapped in her claws "but I have something else in mind." He said. Bellatrix's disappointment was evident and she vented this by scowling at me threateningly. However, I had more important things to worry about, as Voldemort addressed me again.

"As I am a merciful Lord," Voldemort said in self-righteous tone "I shall give you one last chance Seer, join me and tell me everything that you know, about Potter's plans, everything, and I shall let you live. Or, you can refuse or lie, and suffer the consequences."

"You can take your 'mercy'," I breathed, still not recovered from the torture and feeling worse and more and more lightheaded with every passing second. I felt drunk on this dizziness and I didn't care that these words cost me anymore, I was already in Hell, "and shove it up your…"

"Draco!" Voldemort hissed, his pale face closing down in darkness in response, while Bellatrix let out a shrill gasp.

Immediately Draco stepped forwards, walking to his master's side like a good little traitorous puppy, his stuck up nose wrinkled in disgust and a cold look in his eyes as he regarded me. I watched him as he walked, a look of revulsion on my own face as my mind reeled and my head span pitilessly, I didn't feel good, but I didn't have the time for being ill now, it was too dangerous.

"Yes, my Lord?" Draco asked with the utmost respect and conformity, it was enough to make you sick and to be honest, right then I felt as though I might do just that.

"Take out your wand," Voldemort instructed as Draco regarded me with a look that seemed odd, even to me in my drifting state, he was twitching again. "It's time to cast the stone." Voldemort said cryptically, but I had no mind for trying to work out his gibberish, I was too busy trying to keep from falling over, my mind was spinning so badly. "You are to torture her, and make sure that it hurts. I want information from her before I leave."

Even struggling with consciousness though I was, I understood that just fine. Voldemort was ordering Draco to torture me. Oh God, I thought as my head gave a particularly violent spin, well isn't this just bloody perfect! I felt like crying then, like really, honest to God crying my heart out, I couldn't take this any longer, it was too much, I wanted to scream, again I wanted to let out all this pain but I couldn't, Draco couldn't know how much this would kill me. It was punishment beyond measure, and I was sure that Voldemort somehow knew that too. Draco was twitching again, violently this time, though I hardly noticed, I was too busy having a mini panic attack and trying to get a grip on myself, however, all thoughts on my up and coming torture went out the window when suddenly a unnatural, but familiar, breeze swept across the forefront of my brain. A vision. I didn't have the time to digest this, to think at all about what it meant for me to have one now, as due to my lingering reactions to the Cruciatus Curse to usually warning from my second sight had been hidden. My vision took me immediately, snatching me from this wretched place and catapulting me into the darkness that was welcoming for the first time in my life.

When the darkness cleared and colour erupted in my mind's eye, the contrast wasn't as startling as it usually was. I was standing in a dimly lit, grubby room; everything around me seemed covered in a considerable about of dust and most of what I saw was discoloured, however, none of that stopped this room from being impressive. It was vast, I could tell as much even though I was standing in-between what appeared to be two isles of assorted items, if I looked up I could see a great, tall ceiling, crisscrossed with wooden beams and reminding me of the inside of a church. There were strange and wonderful artefacts everywhere, vacant portrait frames as tall and wide as lorry containers, a large dusty brown globe, upon which the countries seemed to shift and didn't look a think like any earthly places I knew from a map. There were mountains off books, rows of potion vials, a few glowing prophecies and what appeared to be intricate animal skeletons, but like with the globe they were none I recognised. The room had a sense of age to it, of great wisdom and secrecy; it seemed almost to be hallowed in its own way, even though the notion was ridiculous. But there was something else hanging in the air though, something much more menacing and pressing, and it quickly caught my attention.

I noticed Harry for the first time, he was standing firm and determined by my side, turning as I did, and together we span to spot what had caused us to stop running, as something told me we had been. Standing there, a few feet away from us, looking a stunning mixture of dangerous and vulnerable, was Draco Malfoy, striding along shiftily in-between Crabbe and Goyle. Hands balling into fists I turned to face him head on, his flickering blue eyes locking on my solid brown ones for a second before the shot off the survey the room anxiously, and I bristled a little, though I didn't know why. Wand gripped tightly in my hand I felt Harry tense beside me, but refused to tear my gaze away from the advancing trio, knowing that despite everything they had been in the past, they were dangerous now.

I was pulled from my vision then, the exit as shocking and sudden as it usually was. However, this time when I returned, gasping and disorientated, to the present my spinning head didn't still. I was laying on my back, staring up at the ceiling with my head rolling a little on the floor as the world started to fade out around me, going black and blurry before returning to normal. I couldn't think straight, couldn't make sense of anything as nothing around me made sense, I couldn't remember how I came to be on the floor or where I was, and the panic caused by that didn't last for too long as that soon drifted out of my mind too. The world was spinning around me, slowly and deliberately, making my head roll again as I started to drift out of consciousness again, ready to sleep, to rest, however I was roused again by the gentle touch of a pair of hands upon me, and someone's velveteen voice repeating my name. I moaned irritably but dreamily at the disturbance, wishing whoever it was would just leave me alone, I could vaguely make out four other figures clustered above me but I made no attempt to discover who they were, I didn't care about that, I just wanted to rest. But these figures wouldn't let me, the voices continued to rise around me, getting louder and more distinctive, I heard my name again and again, and for one blessed moment I thought that maybe I was at home with my family, or at the burrow with my friends. I heard someone else's name too as a drifted around in my delirious state, but my mind wouldn't focus long enough to remember whose, the people calling it sounded frightened though, and a little angry.

A cold, clear, threatening voice cut through my fog then and I cringed away from it, well able to hear and understand every spoken word.

"What did you See?" the voice demanded harshly and I felt another pair on hands upon me, roughly shaking me, but I was too far gone to feel pain now, my eyes couldn't see a thing anymore and I could barely feel his grip anymore. "Tell me, what did you see!"

I didn't though, I couldn't and I wouldn't, and with one last stab of fierce rage I didn't fully understand, the colours beyond my eyelids finally stopped shifting and swirling, and I felt myself retreating within myself, fading gratefully into the safety of the darkness. Exhaustion claiming me at last.

**Author note: doing a bit of this passing out lark lately isn't she; hope it's not too much. There we go, chapter eighteen, hope you guys liked it. I haven't really got anything else to say, for a change! x**


	19. Holding back

**Author note: Hello everyone, I am so, so, sorry it's taken me so long to update again, I've been having some technical difficulties. My (brand new) laptop packed in last week with all the work I'd done for this chapter, meaning it is lost forever and I had to start over again, I'm not too distraught, as I wasn't all that fond of the way it was before, it was more of an inconvenience really because I was without a laptop for five days, however all is well now and I commandeered my sisters laptop for a few days last week and managed to write this. Thanks for your patience, onwards with the chapter.**

**Chapter nineteen: Holding back**

**"Courage is fear holding on a minute longer."**

**Draco**

"No!" Draco roared, his ferocious cry snapping the once iron tendrils that had restrained and controlled his every movement as though they were nothing more than thread.

Suddenly his mind was clear, free from Voldemort's influence and completely focused on one thing and one thing only, Ivy. He had watched in a numb and passive daze, lulled into indifference by the controlling efforts of the curse, as Voldemort threatened her, unable and unwilling to break through the soothing cloud that fogged his mind and removed all the pain and guilt that usually weighed heavy there. Draco had been unable to care, impassive to her distress and unable to see why it should bother him, why there was a niggling in a far corner of his mind that tried to prompt him into action, but he ignored both it and her, allowing Voldemort to control his body as he wanted. It was easier, it hurt far less than trying to remember why this girl was so important and the domineering probes in his mind willed him not to even try.

The Imperious Curse was a devious spell, it calmed and relieved you as it took over, made you wonder what there was to worry about and consent to do pretty much anything. Not that you had a choice, Draco had learned, the peace you felt had no real effect on how the caster controlled you, the spell allowed them to pull the strings that bound you and make you do what they wanted no matter what, the peacefulness only stopped you from trying to fight. You honestly couldn't see why on earth anything should bother you, there were no real reasons that you could see why you shouldn't do what the caster wanted you to do, and so lulled as you were you consented, no matter what they made you do. Or so Draco had previously thought. Watching Ivy suffer the Cruiciatus Curse had triggered something, watching her agonised face as she curled in on herself, making a protective ball with her body, her lips trembling with the pain of her torment but refusing to scream, it had broken something inside of Draco. The first string had snapped, Voldemort suddenly had no control over Draco's heart and the Imperioused boy could feel the organ being ripped to shreds in his chest at the sight in front of him, though he couldn't understand why. The calming influence of the curse was still streaming into him, telling him not to worry, but a panic had awakened in Draco and he hadn't been able to comply. She was hurting, and for some reason that was killing him slowly.

Voldemort hadn't noticed his wavering control on Draco, he was too engrossed in his torture of Ivy, revelling in the pain he was inflicting, on justice as he saw it. This girl had caused him too many problems, not just by helping Potter and using her sight to keep him alive, but also with regards the Draco, who had always been an obedient and fearful (if not devoted) servant before she interfered. Voldemort had assumed that Draco would be like his father, that pride and the need for power would drive the boy to him, but fear and blackmail would secure his stay, however, it seemed the boy had something of his mother in him. Narcissa's fierce protectiveness for her son irritated Voldemort endlessly; he couldn't abide by the woman's foolish exclamations and desperate pleas that never seemed to let up. Draco looked to be exhibiting some of the same actions now, or at least he had been since the Seer was brought here, and had Voldemort not been sure that such a thing didn't exist, and that it was pride that drove Narcissa's actions and naivety that caused Draco's, he might have said it was love. He scoffed at the very idea, no, it was teenage attraction that drove Draco to such ridiculous lengths to protect the girl, that caused him to disrespect his master, and Voldemort would not tolerate it, he would not have the loyalty of even one Death Eater put in jeopardy, not when there was a potential use for him. Focusing with all his immense might on inflicting as much pain upon the silent girl as he could, trying to coax a scream from her, Voldemort paid little heed to the boy still under his control, Draco had never possessed the power to overthrow him and was no threat in that regard. He inflicted punishment upon them both, knowing this would teach Draco to respect his master and show him what happened when he betrayed Lord Voldemort. He had no idea what Draco was now capable of.

The false calmness that had once entombed him was slipping away like a blanket falling from his shoulders to the floor. No longer cushioned by the cloud of tranquilly but still completely under Voldemort's control, Draco became fully aware of what was happening. Ivy, his Ivy, the woman he had hated and loved in equal measure these past seven years, was being tortured to within an inch of her life in front of his very eyes. He knew Voldemort was holding nothing back, that he was letting loose the full strength of his power, as he could feel it through the connection of the Imperious Curse, and the agony was plain on her face, though she was trying to hide it. He was hurting Ivy. The trembling started then, subtle at first but rapidly building up into visible tremors as Draco's fury rose, bubbling up inside of him dangerously and causing some of the other strings to snap, as his expression twisted into a scowl and his hands balled into fists. Standing there, filling with a rage he couldn't act on, Draco felt like a coiled spring or a smoking volcano, pent up power and energy just seconds from eruption. Just waiting for that one thing, the one action that would send him over the edge and unleash his fury.

Voldemort lifted the Cruiciatus Curse then but still Draco's shakes did not subside, he watched as the courageous witch slumped under the weight of her release, exhausted and damaged by the pain she had suffered. Unwittingly Draco was reminded of himself earlier, of how he too had been reduced to a quivering mass on the floor at the hands of the curse, but also how he had refused to give in, how he had refused to let Voldemort see how much it truly hurt him to suffer this, as Draco had been well out of his depth then. He remembered the determination he had felt when he thought that he was doing this for Ivy and the hated that had consumed him when he looked at the man who had tortured him, Ivy was wearing a similar expression now, one which told Draco that she was far from giving in, no matter how weak the curse had made her, and that frightened Draco more than almost anything else she could have done. She was showing her contempt for Voldemort, she was making sure he knew she was stronger than that and wouldn't go down without a fight, and while Draco couldn't help but be proud of her for that, his pride was far outweighed by his fear of how Voldemort would retaliate, as he knew he wouldn't let it slide. Draco was right, and Voldemort decided to curse her again.

As Voldemort threatened Ivy and Bellatrix boasted that she would get a scream from her, Draco was raging in silent and immobile fury. Still bound by Voldemort's curse there was nothing that the blond boy could do as the others decided Ivy's fate, it was clear to everyone how fragile that last curse had made her, and it was just as obvious that a second round of torture would be more than enough to break her. But at what cost? Was Voldemort prepared to lose all the information that Ivy could give him just to prove a point and punish them both? Draco wasn't sure; he couldn't gage his vile masters expression as Voldemort had his back to him and had eyes only for a struggling but defiant Ivy, who seemed to be swaying where she sat. Fighting mentally against his restraints, desperately trying to free himself of the figurative rope that allowed Voldemort to control his every move and using the Dark Lord's focus on Ivy to hide his actions, Draco barely heard a word of what Voldemort was saying to them all. Draco wanted to scream out in frustration, to vocalise the agony he was feeling, but he couldn't, the cry was tapped in his throat, building and expanding along with other points in his body, all of which felt as though they would explode at any moment. His throat, his head, his fists and his heart were all filling with incredible pressure as Draco's desperation reached breaking-point. However it was just when Draco felt hopelessness begin to set in, when his doubts invaded his fierce conviction and he feared that he might not be strong enough to break Voldemort's control, that a string of words slipped through his distress and registered in his mind with an icy sense of terror. Voldemort commanded Draco to walk forwards under the power of the Imperious Curse, and verbally ordered him to take out his wand, fighting every movement Draco had no choice but to do as asked. Then Voldemort spoke again and everything changed.

"It's time to cast the stone. You are to torture her, and make sure that it hurts. I want information from her before I leave."

And that was all it took, there was a moment of deathly silence, of a stunned calm that left Draco temporarily numb, and then Draco's restraints shattered in an instant, his fury and his love flooding back to him with as much force as a tidal wave Draco found himself being propelled forwards as he watched Ivy finally lose her battle with consciousness and pass out. With a seconds hesitation Draco changed course, veering away from Voldemort, who he had been starting towards in a fit of rage, Draco instead raced towards Ivy, blind to everything around him as he leapt forth like a newly freed animal, still focused entirely on one thing. Ignoring everyone else Draco dropped to his knees by her side, still shaking with fury and becoming suddenly frantic. Desperate to help but not knowing what to do Draco, his hands hovering uselessly over her body, felt his gaze flicking over her, cataloguing her injuries and feeding the rage that was still blazing on the backburner, pushed back by his concern but in no way forgotten, being stoked by this. Voldemort's crimes against himself and Ivy were still fresh and vivid in his memory, he could feel Ivy's former agony as his own as it had been just hours ago when Voldemort had tortured him, and there was no chance of Draco forgetting this. Revenge and retribution were already seeping into his head, though there was little room around his wrath and his worry. Voldemort would pay for this, Draco thought, gritting his teeth but reaching out a tender hand to raise Ivy's head up from its awkward position on the carpet, if it was the very last thing Draco ever did, he would pay.

"What's wrong with her?" Draco's mother asked, reminding Draco of the presence of the others and irritating Draco immensely, as he had not forgotten that it was her fault Ivy was still here.

Draco could sense his mother's proximity behind him, she was too close for comfort and he could tell just by her tone that she was looking down on the scene with disapproval; however, Draco didn't turn around to look at her, or answer her or respond in any way. He simply continued to support Ivy's limp head in his hand while he watched her eyes roll back in her head and her eyelids flutter, feeling a tight twisting at his heart as he did so.

"Weakness," Bellatrix responded scornfully "for all her talk the Mudblood hadn't the strength to withstand the curse."

Draco did react then, furious with her words Draco quickly snapped his head to look over his shoulder at his aunt, glaring in obvious disdain. With a look that could kill were Bellatrix not too cold and heartless to feel it, Draco made this anger known.

"No," Voldemort said in a breathy voice, as though he were having an epiphany "she is having a vision."

And just like that Draco forgot about Bellatrix, his head snapping back to the girl on the floor he watched as she frowned and muttered something incoherent, moving her head a little in his grip and looking distressed, no, looking angry. Feeling his heart pounding erratically against his ribcage, a scowl of his own in place, Draco shook his head in disbelief.

"No," he said in a firm but quiet voice "she can't be," he denied, frightened by Ivy's strange reaction and hoping to God that she wasn't having a vision, as Voldemort would never leave her alone then, and she was already so weak. He was frightened for her, she didn't look well at all and her sudden faint had him itching with worry, he didn't know what to do for her, once more she needed him and he hadn't a clue how to handle it, and that made him even more furious. "Her visions aren't like this." He insisted, thinking to himself that usually they were more like her mind had just wandered off. Was it possible that they had changed since he last saw her? He wondered as he flexed his fingers and held her a little tighter, the soft strands of her hair brushing against his skin as he held her and gazed down at her anxiously.

"I know better than to take you're word for it, Draco," Voldemort said snidely and impatiently from a startlingly close distance behind Draco, the blond tensed but otherwise didn't react to his master, he just continued to watch Ivy. "You've made it perfectly clear you cannot tell the truth where she is concerned." Voldemort chided and Draco didn't respond, he couldn't be bothered to plead his case even though he was right, and he'd never seen Ivy do this before, it simply didn't matter, Voldemort would believe what he wanted to.

Going ridged as a board but keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Ivy's tossing form, Draco felt his every sense prickle into full alert as Voldemort crouched down beside him, watching Ivy intently, and reflexively he held onto her even tighter. He was going to do something, Draco could practically hear the wheels turning in the dark regions of Voldemort's mind, he wasn't finished with Ivy yet, he was going to try and get this vision from her. It was as Draco was taking a brief, distrustful sideways glance at Voldemort that something happened to make them both react, Ivy let out a weary moan from the floor. Sitting up all the straighter and shuffling closer to her, Draco turned Ivy's head towards him as her eyelids fluttered open a little, eager to see that she was alright. Draco didn't get the confirmation he wanted though, as though her eyes were open Ivy's dark brown orbs were glassy and unseeing, and with a drained roll of her head and a sigh, she let her eyelids slip closed again. Ivy really was weak, Draco thought as he watched this, the Cruiciatus Curse and what might have been a vision had taken a lot out of her and she needed to rest, however Voldemort had other ideas.

"What did you See?" the snake-like man demanded as he lent forwards over Ivy and roughly took hold of her arms with his thin, skeletal fingers. Draco stiffened, and turned his threatening, glacial glare upon Voldemort, daring him to hurt her even though his master wasn't looking at him.

"The Mudblood is unconscious, my Lord," Lucius said, speaking up for the first time in a long while to state the obvious, and the mere sound of his calm, collected voice wound Draco up, but he had more important things to think of.

"Silence!" Voldemort hissed, his red gaze never leaving Ivy's face as her scowl deepened and her eyelids fluttered again "What did you See?" he demanded again, hardly seeming to care that Ivy couldn't hear him and punctuating his words with two vigorous shakes on her arms, jerking her body violently.

"Let go of her," Draco half growled, struggling for control of himself and wondering why he was even trying to contain his hatred for the monster beside him "she can't tell you anything."

Abruptly Voldemort turned his head to face Draco, it was a snap movement that pulled Draco up short and sent a shot of fresh fear through him as he looked up into the inhuman face. "Can she not?" he asked snidely but his voice a clear and very real threat. "Can she not hear me, Draco?" Voldemort sneered his name before, still watching Draco ominously, he visibly tightening his hold on the drifting Ivy, whose head Draco still supported "Then she cannot feel this where she is!" he snarled before viciously shaking her again and again. Draco paled in rage, his free hand reaching for his wand and his jaw set so tightly he was sure the pressure he was putting it under would snap it, as he watched with contempt as Voldemort continued to hurt Ivy.

"I am your master!" Voldemort bellowed "You are loyal to me and you do as I say! The next time you dare to tell me what to do I'll show your friend here exactly what is meant by dark magic!" he yelled, his furious pale-green face right in front of Draco's and both men were visibly seething when Voldemort suddenly turned back to Ivy, releasing one of her arms and drawing his wand, as she moaned in discomfort. Draco's heart stopped dead in his chest. "Crusi-!"

"No!" Draco cried, lunging forwards to send the spell off course and drawing his own wand, however, he'd barely knocked Voldemort's aim wide before the deadly wizard had trained it upon Draco once more, and with a swift flick of the wand Draco was suddenly sent shooting backwards.

His back colliding painfully with the stone wall Draco let out a groan of agony as he crashed to the ground, aching all over. But he paid no mind to that, as sprawled out on the carpeted floor, his legs underneath him at an awkward angle and his chin resting against the harsh fibres, Draco opened his eyes to see Voldemort preparing to cast another curse on Ivy. Running on fear and hatred Draco pushed himself to his knees, hardly feeling the carpet burns and bruises that were sure to be forming as, with his mother screaming at him to stop, Draco quickly snatched up his wand, which had fallen a little way ahead of him, stumbled to his feet and charged towards Voldemort.

"Protego!" He cried as he raced forwards on unsteady legs and a shield suddenly sprang up between Ivy and Voldemort. It wasn't enough to keep Voldemort's spells out, Draco knew that, but it had been enough to make the wizard pause and that was all he wanted. "You'll break her mind," he insisted as vehemently but as trustfully as he could "if you use the curse again her mind will snap, it's too much for her, she won't be able to take it!"

"So what?" Bellatrix chimed darkly as Voldemort's livid gaze found Draco and the blond boy knew he was just seconds, and a poor explanation, away from being killed. The black-haired witch laughed maliciously as she strode forwards, pointing her own substitute wand at Ivy. "The filthy Mudblood deserves it," she said and with her gaze flicking to Voldemort she suddenly sounded excited "please my Lord, let me be the one to do it, it would be an honour."

Draco gulped but other than that he made sure he had no reaction to Bellatrix's words, no matter how much he wanted to curse her himself at that moment. No, he maintained his tattered composure and stood tall before Voldemort, his fair hair a mess and his robes crumpled. Voldemort's gaze narrowed in suspicion.

"I don't care about the Mudblood's mind," the monster said coldly, his wand still trained on Ivy through Draco's shield "I do not feel affection for her like you do," he said in a mocking tone though it was clear that all joking on that topic was over "let her mind brake, I do not care, I only want her visions." He said returning his gaze to Ivy.

"But," Draco injected quickly, struggling to mask his own feelings and fears as he was desperate to keep Ivy safe, but also knew the only way to do so was to use his position to the full "how will you extract them if she is insane or even dead? She will be no use to you then and you will have lost your advantage."

"You've changed your tone," Bellatrix intoned bitingly and Draco turned his glacial gaze on her. "You cared more about some Mudblood than your master's plans before, what's changed?"

"Nothing has changed," Draco answered coldly "my loyalty is exactly where it has always been. I'll admit that I have an attachment to Jones, but this is more important, and my actions do not concern you." He snapped and as Bellatrix's mouth widened into an indignant 'O' and she went to shout something back, Draco returned his even gaze to Voldemort, who was still on the floor by Ivy. "My Lord," Draco said respectfully even though to utter the words felt like blasphemy now "her mind is weak, if she's tortured again today then it will snap and you'll lose all her information and potential. Think about all she knows about Potter and his plans, how her visions could deliver him to you or help you run the Wizarding World. There's a reason you've been trying to get hold of her for almost two years, and it's because she's too valuable for them to have, think of the use she could be to us."

The room was silent when Draco finished speaking, every set of eyes were fixed upon him and almost all of them bore a different expression, Draco's mother and father looked shocked, whiplashed by Draco's sudden changes of heart and not sure what any of this meant any more. Bellatrix, however, still looked furious; she glared at Draco from underneath her mess of black curls and paced like a caged tiger, ready to strike at any moment, as soon as her master gave the say so. Voldemort though, was expressionless, he stayed where he was, knelt on the floor with a now completely unconscious Ivy, who still lay where she had earlier, her head now turned to the side from where Draco had dropped her, and he watched Draco with eyes that were far from agreeing. Voldemort didn't look impressed, and Draco was sure that any moment now Voldemort would call him impertinent and kill him, he was ready for it, standing firm with his head held high even though his fists trembled with fear and fury, however, Voldemort said nothing and for one long moment they all waited in silence. No one wanted to be the first to speak, no one wanted to break the silence, at least none of the Death Eaters did, Voldemort appeared to be thinking intently, while Narcissa, Lucius and Bellatrix were too afraid of causing offence, and Draco had said all he wanted to say, and refused to add any more in his defence. Anything more would have been a lie.

"It is true," Voldemort said suddenly and musingly as everyone's gazes flicked to look at him and he banished Draco's shield with a single wave of his wand. Draco tensed as Voldemort reached forwards to trail his fingers along Ivy's hairline, going from her temples to her chin in an almost loving caress, though it was anything but.

"That I need to girls mind whole is indeed correct. She would be little use to me insane, nothing more than a lesson well taught." He continued, his hard red eyes glanced at Draco meaningfully before returning to the unconscious girl. "However, I do not appreciate being told what I should and shouldn't do, we have discussed this Draco, have we not? I am in control, you do NOT presume to advise me in any way." He added threateningly, not looking up as Draco shifted nervously and willed the monster to look away from her. "However, your point is valid. I shall not interrogate the girl again tonight."

The relief that trickled through Draco was hesitant and cautious, it, like him, wasn't sure it was time to celebrate just yet. This was Voldemort; he thought as he regarded him warily, there was no way he would give in so easily, not without making a single point of punishing someone. And Draco wasn't the only one to think that.

"Surely you jest, my Lord," Bellatrix said, her voice halfway between a disregarding laugh and cry of shock "you cannot seriously be giving in to him? Not when you are so close to breaking the Seer and it is obvious that Draco's interests are clouded by his apparent 'attraction' to her!"

Voldemort had indeed been thinking something similar to Bellatrix, Draco clearly had an attachment to the Mudblood and that would make him likely to lie and conspire against him if it would save her. He had been willing to defy his master for the Seer mere moments before and the Dark Lord highly doubted the young Death Eater's feelings had changed in such short a space of time. However, he had then realised who it was he was talking about. Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's only son, who had been spoon-fed his prejudices from day one. The boy had been a known Mudblood hater and bully in school, but was also pathetically cowardly and selfish. Knowing all this Voldemort not only found it likely that Draco had once again switched sides (he didn't buy the line about his loyalties still being the same) but wondered how it had taken so long. Despite having one or two of his mother's qualities, Draco Malfoy was the very essence of his father, pride and self-preservation ruled in their minds, governed their every action. Whatever his feelings may have been, Draco had surely seen the shame in aligning himself with a Mudblood, the destitution of a life without his inheritance, as for his 'love' his parents would surely disown him, and in a manner befitting a Malfoy male he had quickly come snivelling back, begging forgiveness and swearing allegiance as he came. No, Voldemort had no trouble believing that Draco was once again his, how could the possibility of love from a Mudblood be enough to tempt him away from the sure power and respect of being one of Voldemort's followers? The Dark Lord couldn't see how it could, and so accepted Draco's words; however, he by no means excused the boy for his insolence and for working against him. Nor was he stupid enough to believe Draco was completely loyal. He would have to be punished.

"Why can I not, Bellatrix?" Voldemort asked dangerously, turning to face the dark haired witch who continued to look appalled until she glimpsed the look on her master's face and blanched. "Is there perhaps something you know that I do not, something that means you know better than I do?"

"My Lord..." Bellatrix started, either to disagree or apologise, but no one found out as Voldemort cut across her.

"Silence!" he commanded irately and no one said a word as he trained his wand on Bellatrix threateningly. "Do not contest me, Bellatrix, just do as I say!" And then, taking absolutely everyone by surprise, Voldemort abruptly turned his wand on Draco and cried "Crucio!"

Stunned Draco watched as the jet of light flew towards him, there was no time to act and he was unable to do anything to prevent it, he could only suppress a scream and fall to his knees when the pain hit him full force and took over him, completely crippling him with agony. As he fought to remain strong, as Ivy had, Draco soon found himself twisting in pain on the floor, trying to contain it but struggling, as Voldemort unleashed his sudden fury on Draco and the blond couldn't think why. He had thought Voldemort had accepted his words, accepted Draco's loyalty, but apparently not. When the pain finally let up Draco was knelt on all fours on the carpet once more, panting in exhaustion and swaying a little where he sat from so many invasions so close together, he was struggling to cope. However, bleary eyed, he looked up at Voldemort who was now on his feet and staring down at Draco darkly.

"I should think by now, that is a lesson learnt," Voldemort said in a demeaning tone and Draco seethed, knowing full well that he had learnt something today but not what this creature was talking about. He couldn't do this anymore, couldn't serve this monster, not anymore and once he could be sure that Ivy was safe and didn't need his interference any more, Draco wouldn't. He wanted out, he hated Voldemort with all his might, and he wouldn't do this anymore.

"The girl is to be returned to the cellar, no one is to go down there or touch her once she is, not unless I say so. I want her mind whole but her defences low when I return to extract her visions and anyone who disobeys me will suffer my wrath." Voldemort threatened and no one said a word. "Bellatrix, take the Mudblood." He commanded and Draco had to fight back a horrified and enraged 'no' of protest. He had to maintain the Dark Lord's trust, he had to get them all to believe that he was really on their side otherwise he wouldn't be able to help her, he had to hide his feelings, but he simply couldn't allow this.

"With pleasure," Bellatrix purred at Voldemort gratefully, before turning to Draco and sending him a spiteful smirk, her dark eyes alight with intent and meaning. Gritting his teeth Draco stumbled to his feet quickly and started forwards, desperate to make his disagreement known, he knew what Bellatrix was like, and together Draco and Ivy had served to humiliate and infuriate her both, Draco was sure that she could also see through Draco's lies and was terrified that she'd take out her fury on Ivy while no one was around to stop her.

"My Lord-" Draco started to contest taking pained and exhausted steps towards Voldemort, but determined Bellatrix not be allowed to escort Ivy to the cellar, Merlin only knew what she'd do to her.

"Enough," The Dark Lord said in a cold, frim voice waving a silencing hand at Draco and stopping the blond in his path with the force of his inhumanly red eyes, which were fixed threateningly on Draco. "It wasn't a suggestion, Bellatrix WILL confine the Mudblood to the cellar and you will not argue; otherwise you shall be joining her in her fate! Or better yet, you and I shall resume her torture where we left off, and we'll see if your 'attraction' can withstand curing her!" he threatened harshly and Draco could tell from his adamant expression that Voldemort meant every word, clamping his mouth shut and resisting the urge to scowl or fight this as rage continued to bubble maliciously inside of him, screaming at him not to let Bellatrix take her, even though there was nothing he could do.

Draco was trembling once more as Bellatrix bent down beside Ivy, a sick smile twisting across her face. Looking positively giddy she violently grabbed hold of a handful of Ivy's mahogany tresses and jerked her callously off the ground. His fists clenching and his expression barely neutral Draco indulged his indignant rage with internal promises of revenge, he thought of this repeatedly and as though his very life depended on it, Draco swore that he would get them back for this, Bellatrix and Voldemort; they wouldn't get away with this. Sending Draco one last mocking look Bellatrix dragged Ivy across the drawing room by her hair; laughing madly to herself she yanked the unconscious girl out into the corridor and disappeared from sight. Fighting the instinctive and prevalent urge to chase after them, to protect Ivy from whatever cruel, perverse punishment Bellatrix had planned, Draco held himself firm under Voldemort's probing gaze, well aware that he was being tested here and knowing that the punishment would be for his failure, death, for the both of them. Blue eyes blazing with a fierce flame Draco met Voldemort's gaze, making no effort to hide the hatred that was burning there for all to see, and for a short while the two just stood there, the rebelling servant and his evil master, sizing each other up as though looking at each other for the first time, suddenly aware of what the other could do. Resolving to keep an eye on the Malfoy boy, and to dispose of the Seer as soon as he could, as he could tell she was still going to cause him trouble, Voldemort told the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor not to expect him for at least another week, as he had business to attend to overseas, repeated his warning to leave the girl alone, and swept from the room.

However, long after the cautious and calculating Voldemort had left, Draco continued to stand where he was staring in a furious rage at the door the monster had vanished through and shaking from head to toe though he held his head high and proud. A few times he thought that he heard noises from bellow, the sound of a scream from the cellar, but he knew that he was imagining it, Ivy wasn't going to be coming back round any time soon, she wouldn't be screaming no matter what Bellatrix did. However this didn't make him feel any better, if anything it only made him more livid at his aunt who had still yet to return from the cellar. Red hot tears stung at Draco's eyes and he quickly blinked them away, scowling all the harder because of them. Ivy needed his help, she was trapped here at the mercy of his family, Bellatrix was surely hurting her right this instant as punishment for the trouble Ivy had caused her, and Voldemort would be back in a week to complete his own torture. Draco knew he had to do something to help her but there was nothing he could do! He was in a perilous position and feared that he could help neither of them, that in seven days they would both be done for. There was nothing he could do, she was going to suffer and there was nothing he could do, Draco thought his hands tightening into fists and pure hatred filling his every pore. He was trembling again.

"Draco?" a worried voice from behind him asked surprising him as someone put a gentle hand on his shoulder. However even though he hadn't been expecting the gesture Draco didn't jump, he knew exactly who it was, and looking over his shoulder at Narcissa Malfoy's concerned expression, Draco felt all his rage, disgust and hatred emote his face as he glared at her and she blanched. Draco said nothing as he mother looked at him in distress; he simply shrugged off her touch and strode from the room without a single backwards glance at either of his parents.

**Author note: definitely not the best chapter I've ever written, but it needed to go up, I've already spent too much time on it what with one thing and another. I hope you enjoyed it anyway, there was meant to be more to this but I thought it would be too much to add it on here, so I'll have to put it in the next chapter, but with any luck that will work and flow better than putting it in here would have done anyway.**

**A quick comment. Are there any Being Human fans out there? I've recently written a one short for the original BBC version (before the great laptop crash of last week) and its been uploaded about a week. Anyone fancy checking it out? I'd appreciate it if someone would, its kind of a bit of drabble, more of a platform for future Being Human fics, but all the same, it'd be nice to get some feedback. Thanks guys. X**


	20. Treasures and torments

**Chapter twenty: Treasures and torments**

**"You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul." Julie de Lespinasse**

**Draco**

The sound of tearing parchment and Draco's furious groan shattered the heavy silence of the room as he angrily ripped a page from the book he was writing in. Still snarling crossly the frustrated blond balled the yellowed page animatedly, letting all the rage and misery that had been building inside of him mercilessly all day, battering his heart and wavering his focus, fill the action as he threw the ball away from him with a single impassioned movement. Teeth gritted and losing what little composure he still hand Draco brought his elbows down hard on the desk and raked his fingers violently through his hair. Livid at his own ineptitude Draco bit down hard with his teeth to keep himself from letting loose an exasperated cry, he knew it would do him no good but he desperately wanted to let out some of his self-loathing, however for that very reason, that he wanted to, Draco denied himself that privilege and tried to refocus his mind. He simply couldn't though, it wasn't possible, too many desperate, frantic thoughts were rushing around his head and there was nothing he could do to control them.

He couldn't get her face out of his mind. The look of barely restrained fear when he had entered the cellar under Voldemort's power, how her expression had quickly morphed to one of absolute and unforgiving hatred as he had carried out the Dark Lord's orders under the influence of the Imperious Curse, and her agonised expression as Voldemort tortured her and he was unable to save her all haunted his thoughts pitilessly and were driving him half insane. The Imperious Cruse had at the time lessened the guilt and distress he had felt while Ivy was punished by his own sadistic master; however that pain had been sprung upon him full force in the hours after the incident. Draco hadn't slept a wink that night, nor hardly any in the nights since, for every time he closed his eyes it was her face he saw, her screams that echoed in his mind and her pain that plagued him. Pushed to his emotional limit Draco had sprang out of bed that first night, restless and unable to sleep knowing she was suffering just floors below him, and had instantly began to trying and think of a way to save her, he was still thus employed. All his plans and schemes had been thought up in vain, not a single one stood any chance of freeing her and the futileness of his efforts was destroying him. He couldn't just leave her there though, he'd failed her enough times now and he wasn't about to do it again, Draco knew he had the power to save her, he just couldn't think of how.

Three days had passed since Voldemort placed him under the Imperious Curse and tried to get Ivy to divulge her secrets, and Draco hadn't seen her since. He'd hardly left his room in days, only to eat and keep up whatever appearances he had to, to maintain his charade of loyalty to Voldemort's cause, though each and every time he did venture out he was met with disapproving glances and stern lectures from his family, which it took every ounce of his limited self-control to ignore. He needed to keep his place as a trusted Death Eater as it was invaluable to keeping Ivy alive and safe, and so he did everything in his power to make his family and the other Death Eaters (who had heard gossip of Draco's feelings for the Seer) believe that it had only been a passing fancy and that he hated her and all Muggleborns as much as ever. Fortunately Draco was a good actor, he had had years of experience in putting up a front and almost everyone believed his false indifference, except his mother, who could see right through Draco's lies. But that didn't matter, she never voiced her obvious scepticism and kept to just giving Draco disbelieving and pleading looks, which he easily ignored, as Narcissa Malfoy was the least of his concerns right now, as she wasn't the only one to doubt his allegiance.

Bellatrix was still fiercely adamant that Draco was a traitor and frequently threatened him when they met in the dim corridors of the manor, she told him that she knew exactly what he was up to and vowed to punish him herself if he betrayed the Dark Lord. Draco only looked at her when she did this, keeping his expression coldly neutral and saying she was being overly suspicious. However, Draco was wary of her, the few times his emotions had gotten the better of him and he had found himself in front of the cellar door, even though he had decided it was best for everyone if he stayed away, Bellatrix had never been far behind. Peering round the corner of the corridor or suddenly appearing in a doorway, a look of knowing accusation and satisfaction on her face, she was there each and every time he tried to get into the cellar. Draco wasn't stupid, he knew Bellatrix must have put some kind of jinx on the door after she left it the other night, to alert her when anyone was near it and allow her to keep to Voldemort's orders.

Draco always met her critical gaze when she cornered him, he didn't finch or wane under the scrutiny of her harsh black eyes and sent her an impassive look, as though he just happened to be wandering innocently by the door when she came, and buried his hands deep in his pockets before calmly walking away. He wasn't calm though, Bellatrix was preventing him from getting in to see Ivy, with her appearing every time he drew near the door and knowing that Voldemort's orders were that Ivy be left in isolation, there was no way for him to check that she was all right and to see what damage Bellatrix had done to her when she trapped her in the cellar the other night. And this infuriated Draco, as Ivy could be lying down there half dead for all he knew and his vindictive aunt was keeping him from her. Draco supposed that their separation was for the best, if he was to maintain appearances then going down into the cellar like a concerned boyfriend, even if he was allowed to, wouldn't do him any good. Ivy benefited far more from his supposed contempt than from heartfelt exclamations, Draco's rational mind had decided. While ever Voldemort and the Death Eaters thought he was on their side Draco could slyly help Ivy and keep her safe, if he had fought any more than he already had for her freedom, owning up to his feelings and telling them all that he cared for her, then they would surely eliminate her as she was a threat, or use her to punish Draco for his feelings, as Voldemort had done. No, Draco's love was toxic to Ivy now and he could protect her better from a distance.

Or at least he had thought he could, Draco thought in furious dejection from where he sat, with his hands still gripping tightly at his hair and his face the epitome of agony. Three days and countless scribbled plans had yielded nothing but more frustration and self-disgust, Draco's time was running out, he had four days at most until Voldemort returned to either kill, enslave or torture Ivy, his opportunities and chances were slipping through his fingers and he grew more distraught and restless by the day. He had to get her out in time. But his damn mind, which he had always thought cunning, couldn't figure out a useful, plausible plan! He had exhausted every last thing he could think of to get her out, and all were too risky, too foolish or just plain impossible. It was driving him to madness and Draco couldn't bear it, he needed her to be safe.

Forcing her furious face, looking betrayed and livid, from his mind with a conscious effort Draco sat up straight, he unknotted his fingers from his now pertinently tousled hair and lifted his head from his hands. Taking a deep, sobering breath Draco sought to calm himself as hysteria threatened to rise and he came close to snapping again, and to pacify this distress he indulged in something else he'd been stopping himself from doing. Looking across the chaotic room (which he still refused to allow Kidda to clean), littered here and there with random books picked up in haste in the search of ideas and broken objects thrown in torment, Draco stared intently at the dark wooden door of his room, willing it to open. It didn't though, no matter how intently Draco stared at it, his expected visitor didn't arrive and Draco grew disappointed and irritated. Where is she? He demanded internally as, impatient and anxious, Draco balled his hands into fists and fought back tremors. Swallowing down his unease Draco deliberately turned back to his desk, intent on returning to work but finding that he couldn't, he was simply too wired and his exhausted mind was growing depressed at his lack of progress. Reaching out for the leather-bound book (the same coded one he had used to plan his mission last year) Draco rested his fingers against the parchment and frowned at the page as he reached towards his quill, only to stop suddenly, close his fingers back into a fist and let out a groan of frustration. A frequent desire flared in that instant, rising up again as it always did whenever he worked in this book and while Draco tried to fight this urge, knowing now was not the time and needing to carry on planning, he couldn't help but give in. With quick almost violent movements Draco began to flick through the pages of the book, working his way backwards through the volume until he stopped, reluctant before the page he wanted. This wasn't healthy, the wise, responsible part of Draco's brain warned him, and it helps no one, least of all her. However, Draco didn't care, and indulging himself once again he abruptly turned the final page before he could stop himself. There, facing downwards against the parchment, was a photograph.

His heart beat suddenly very obvious in his chest, pounding in steady rhythmic beats against his ribs; Draco tentatively reached for the photo, brushing the glossy white back gently with his fingertips. He'd been ashamed of this before, back when he was still how he used to be, it had wounded his pride and made him feel pathetic to have taken it, but at the time he had simply had to have it, even though he hadn't known why. Draco didn't regret this thievery though, in fact, sad though it may seem to others (and may once have seemed to him) he cherished it. Feeling the sharp edges of the photo as he turned it over Draco's heart, that had been clamouring for just this moment, cringed agonisingly in his chest.

In the photo a young couple danced. Both were bedecked in dark robes, the girl in emerald and the boy in black, as they gracefully span together in circles, laughing somewhat playfully at something to the right of the photo and out of sight. The brunette girl aged about fourteen, glanced over her partner's shoulder and laughed, her brown gaze alight when she turned it up to him and he flashed her a wicked smile as they continued to twirl. The photo was of Draco and Ivy, taken at the Yule Ball during their fourth year and stolen out of Ivy's photo album last Boxing Day, when everything had stopped being simple. Suddenly overcome by a melancholy mood that Draco would have scoffed at in any other man he stared down at the photo as the scene replayed over and over again, watching it with new eyes as he considered what he had learnt three days ago. Now that he understood these feelings had been a long time coming, building and barely concealed under Draco's pride for years, he noticed the way his fourteen year old self tightened his grip on Ivy's hand, flexing his fingers as he led them into another turn, he could see how his own smile widened when he caught sight of hers, and recognised an air of pride about himself that had nothing to do with getting revenge upon Pansy. All these things were concealed, of course, by Draco's stiff and unyielding stance, the distance he rigidly kept between the two of them and a coldness in his eyes, but they were there nevertheless, and now he could finally see them. Ivy too, showed a few signs of early affection, mainly in her expressive eyes, which seemed to glow with glee as she looked up at him and flickered over his face in unguarded moments or when Draco wasn't watching. It was anguish and pleasure in equal measure to watch this, however, soon the pain won out and tormented by his memories and reminded of the invasion of Voldemort's curse, Draco couldn't look at the photo any more. Thinking of what could have been was excruciating, and remembering what Voldemort did to the both of them filled him once more with furious rage.

Quick as a flash Draco slipped the photo back into the old brown book and snapped it shut, resolute not to torture himself anymore and trying to be strong, now was not the time for sentimental nonsense. Sitting back in his chair, as far away from the desk and the photo hidden in the book as he could get, Draco glanced again at the door and drummed his fingers impatiently against the chair arm as he fought to control the emotions the photo had stirred. It had been a stupid idea to take it out, and Draco resolved to leave it where it was now, and once Ivy was free from the manor he would lock the book and the photo back in his Aligz Box where it belonged and never look at it again. He did no such thing of course. Still watching the door that refused to open a nervous and agitated Draco found that he couldn't move his thoughts away from memories. Draco had never set much store by memories before, he had always thought them of little consequence, he had had few that he cared to recall, not exactly having a brilliant childhood, and had never understood (and had often laughed at) people who clung to the past. That was until the past became infinitely important to Draco, until it became the only pleasant thought he had to dwell on, then he had understood. At that thought, Draco was distracted from his staring at the door and turned somewhat hesitantly, to look at the black Aligz Box open on his desk. Some memories, he mused cautiously but with morbid interest, are even more important than others to some people. And without conscious thought Draco lent forward in his chair to peer deep into the box, where something glittered, catching the light of the midday sun streaming in through Draco's window. It was a small, ornate glass vial, the very one that had fallen from Ivy's jeans when he picked her up three days ago.

His hand moving on its own accord, Draco reached into the box and drew out the vial, he watched as a misty, silver substance swirled inside the glass, it had bewildered him when he had first retrieved it from under a table in the drawing room, when he hadn't known what it was. However, a few hours in his family library and Draco had learnt that Ivy's vial contained a memory, plucked from the temples by magic and placed in here for more clear perusal through what was called a Pensive. That said though, Draco had no idea what memory it was, or even who it came from, he only knew that Ivy had had it with her and that alone was enough to spark his interest. What memory could possibly be so important to her that she carried it with her at all times? He wondered as he continued to frown in confusion at the vial. Who or what could matter this much to her?

**Ivy**

Tremors, slight but forceful, shook my body irregularly and mercilessly from where I lay with my back against the cold stone floor trying to control myself. My body was jerky, reacting to the chill air in the cellar and my unrelenting fear, but the shaking was the only visible sign I gave of my true distress, I couldn't let myself show anything else, because to give in to the desire to break down would be to give up on everything, as once I handed myself over to my misery there would be no coming back, and I'd never get out of here. No, I thought as I solemnly turned my head to the side and stared out into the deep darkness spreading out before me, pressing my sore cheek against the icy stone, I had to be strong, even when tears filled my eyes and the bleakness of my circumstances threatened to overcome me. I had to keep going, I couldn't give in, even though I knew my situation was hopeless, that no one could get me out of this mess but me and I wasn't sure I had the strength to do that anymore. I shivered violently.

Scowling I promptly wrapped my arms around myself and tried to banish my chills, however there was nothing I could do and the closest I came to any warmth was the fresh flash of indignation that lit me up, catching like a flame at all my old fury and anger, using it like timber. My rage came and went down here, usually in quick easily spent bursts, but sometimes in slow burning furies that seemed to stretch on for hours, though I wouldn't know how long they lasted, as I hadn't been out of this cellar for what felt like days. I had absolutely no way of knowing how much time had passed since I had first arrived here, or even since I had been dragged up into the drawing room to be tortured. There were no windows, no sources of light down here, and when I'd been upstairs no one had said or done anything to indicate what time it was and thick, heavy curtains had blocked out the windows. As I remembered my visit to the upstairs room I couldn't suppress a shiver that had nothing at all to do with the temperature, and straightening out my legs until they pressed flat against the floor I quickly pushed aside the disturbing memories, lest I break down in fits of distress and pain. I had to be strong, I thought again with determination, I had to keep my head, and remembering that wouldn't help me one bit. Sucking in a ragged breath I turned fully onto my side and sighed, though I'd much sooner have given in to the tears welling up in my eyes, but I just couldn't let myself, it wasn't conducive to the whole staying strong thing. But it was so chuffing tempting. I was exhausted, drained in what felt like every possible way of all my energy and will, I was barely keeping a grip on my resolve and only holding onto that still because I couldn't physically give up this fight, everything that I was wouldn't let me. No matter how much it hurt to carry on.

So reaching up, exhaustion lying heavily upon me, I lightly stroked the soft fabric of my jumper, which I had taken to leaving off whenever possible, so that when the temperature started to drop again (as it was prone to doing in the droughty cellar) I would feel the benefit of it. I was battling drooping eyelids by this point and could feel my emotions start to numb again, my terror and anger and pain slowly retreating to their corners once more to await their next assault, though I had an ever present companion in fear, which still kept a firm hold on my heart. It was ridiculous that I should be tired, I felt too wired to sleep, too frantic, too desperate and like I should have been doing something even if there was nothing to do. The determined part of me, buzzing dully in my system was partly what was keeping me from giving in, it didn't want me to sleep, it didn't feel safe in the dark cellar and didn't think chancing a nap was the wisest thing to do. However sleeping was all I ever seemed to do down here, I had no energy for anything else and there was nothing to be getting on with, they had me, I was caught and I couldn't even begin to try an escape attempt until someone came down to check on me or something, which looked as though it would never happen. So I had no choice but to give into my fatigued senses and emotions and just lay here, hating and loving and missing with a fierce passion, despite how it exhausted me even more to do so. It was maddening, being down here, like a depressive circle, I would sit here for God only knew how long to try and rest myself after what had happened upstairs, however, the more I sat here with nothing to occupy my mind but what I was going through, the more I thought about it and the more angry and hurt I felt, which consequently made me feel even more exhausted, which then meant I had no drive to even attempt to do anything else.

Those of you who know me well might be surprised by this, by my supposed complacency. The Ivy you know would probably never have just sat here like this, waiting for what was to come, and rest assured, I am still that same determined Ivy I was before. However, there was little I could do now. I hadn't always been as resigned to my new fate as this… no, resigned wasn't the right word, I didn't accept this, I wanted to fight and to get myself out of here, but logically I knew there was nothing I could do. Even courageous and fatally stupid Gryffindors knew when they were beaten. But there was simply nothing I could do, not yet, I could only wait and react to whatever happened next, and I hated the waiting, it unnerved me, I just wanted to get this over with, to escape or… or let whatever happened next just happen already. This waiting and not Voldemort, I thought as I tightened my hands into fists and frowned, will be the death of me. However, as I said, I haven't been this docile all the way through my captivity, however long that may have been. I had woken up, confused, disorientated and aching all over, I couldn't figure out how I had gotten back into the cellar, I had a vague recollection of being upstairs and then I couldn't remember. However, when my aching intensified everything came rushing back.

The Crusiatus Curse, Voldemort, the vision, Draco, all of it, every cruel, agonising moment came flooding back to me. Frantic I had sprung to my feet, absolutely everything hurt, every inch of skin felt as though it had been cut with knives, I knew that was from the Crusiatus Curse but upon touching my arms I could feel great, pulsing bruises that I didn't have clue how I got. Smothering my fear as thoughts of how I came to have these marks invaded my mind I quickly made my way across the room, using the damp walls to guide me and reaching ahead of me with my feet, feeling for Wormtail's body as I neared the door, I can't tell you how relieved I was to find he wasn't there. My scalp and roots throbbing with a mysterious pain I reached for the wooden door as hysterics threatened to rise up inside of me. I was still here! Still trapped and alone, at the mercy of Death Eaters and Voldemort while they tried to extract my memories and visions from me, I shuddered at the very idea, feeling violated by the mere thought. He wanted my visions; he wanted to know what I'd seen so that he could use it against my friends and help his own efforts, who knew what of the seemingly inconsequential things I had Seen would actually be of use to him, what consequences they might have. I had to keep them from him, no matter what, and though of some unfathomable reason he hadn't been able to get into my head upstairs, there was no way of knowing that he wouldn't be able to next time. No, the only sure way to protect myself and everyone else was to get out. My reaching hands found the metal doorknob then, my right hand clasping the smooth surface desperately I quickly pulled at it three times uselessly, however, I made no further attempt to open it. A steady, slow burning pain suddenly grew across my palm, enveloping my hand and fixing it to the door, I couldn't pull away and an irrepressible, distressed scream escaped my lips as white hot fire seemed to burn my hand. Horrified I stared down at my hand in the darkness as I desperately fought to pull it free, pressing a foot against the door and fighting down cries I pushed as hard as I could, and with agonised tears blurring my vision and my teeth tightly grit I used my other hand to try and prise my fingers free.

Crying out in relief I stumbled backwards, drawing my searing hand close to my chest and staring at the door in distressed fury, it was cursed, someone had cursed it so that I couldn't even touch it, let alone try and pick the lock. Furious and hurt though I may have been I wasn't deterred, blinking away my tears I had spent an unknown amount of time pacing the room, desperately checking the walls for holes and gaps that could be widened, or stones that could be removed, I found no such thing but determination spurred me on, I refused to just sit here and wait to die, I had to try, I had to give it my all. However, there was only so much you could do in a small prison like this, and exhausted, both physically and emotionally from my trials upstairs, my mysterious injuries, my hatred and everything else, I had soon become too weak to carry on and had found there was nothing more I could do. And so, the vicious depressive circle had begun.

It was the silence that made it worse, whoever had said that the silence was deafening knew exactly what they were talking about. The absence of other people and sound of any kind weighed heavily on me, it seemed to fill my ears and cloud my head, driving me slowly to a lonely insanity. And to make it worse, without anyone around I had no one to talk my thoughts through with, they ran wild through my head without anyone but me to stop them. There were no distractions, nothing to take my mind of the situation I was trapped in, and in these distressing moments I couldn't help but think of my friends, of where they were now and if they were okay, I also couldn't stop myself from considering what would happen next, if Voldemort would try again to extract my visions from me and what he would do if he couldn't, if I'd even last long enough to find out, also tormented me, if I'd simply go mad from my captivity or if Bellatrix or someone would get bored of waiting and come and finish me off myself. Alone with these thoughts I was certain I'd go insane before too long, each one cut at my heart, soul and resolve as they occurred to me time and time again, and I was sure I'd have no determination left to force me onwards soon. And the most distressing and most reoccurring of these thoughts, was Draco.

Try though I might to force his very existence from my mind I simply couldn't ignore it, not when he was so close to me and not after what had just happened. For some time I had been confused, conflicted in my hatred by the way he had looked when he came to take me from the cellar and to Voldemort, how he had been Imperioused and how he had warned me. However, I had soon reminded myself that he hadn't been under Voldemort's control upstairs, he had been acting exactly like himself then not some weird extension of Voldemort and he hadn't tried to save me then. Besides, the warning and Imperious Curse were probably just mind games from Voldemort, to frighten and confuse me. It had worked at the time, I hadn't known what to think, but now I was one hundred per cent sure, and there was no way I'd soften to him again, no matter how darkly glorious he had looked then. Shaking the thought from my head I scowled at my own idiocy and began to catalogue his crimes against me, even as I subconsciously gripped his ring, which I still wore around my neck. He lied to me on Christmas last year so that he could get into my house and get information for his master, I started off stoking my anger vigorously, he lied to me again on Boxing Day when I figured him out, he's the reason my family had to go into hiding, the reason I had to lodge with friends during the holidays. He pretended to be my friend when we were back at Hogwarts, he fixed the Vanishing Cabinet and let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, almost resulting in the death of many of my friends, he made me fall for him, he had a hand in the murder of Dumbledore, he had left. I thought in a slightly melancholy mood until rage took over once more and I continued. He joined the Death Eaters, he's committed atrocities on their behalf, and I could only guess how many, he allowed his family to hurt and capture my friends and I, would have prevented our escape if I hadn't tried to stop him, he took me up to Voldemort to be tortured, let the monster do what he wanted to me and would have tortured me himself had I not had a vision at the time. There, I thought stubbornly, hate and another agonising emotion I dared not name pulsing through me violently, are those reason enough for you to hate him? Don't they far outweigh any false goodness he might have once had?

Uncomfortable and restless I turned over again, lying on my back with my knees up once more and quickly banishing all thoughts of Malfoy as best as I could, thankfully something altogether more important cropped up to distract me then. As I adjusted the position of my head irritably, resting it somewhat moodily on my folded jumper, my stomach rumbled loudly and instantly all other thoughts but those of my incredible hunger were swept from my mind. Sighing again I couldn't bring myself to be embarrassed by the loud sound as, quite simply, who was there around to hear it? And to be honest I was long past caring about stuff like that, there was no point down here. Lowering my hands, the fingers of which were laced together, I pressed them against my growling stomach and did my best not to think about how hungry I was, but that proved impossible and I gave up that fight. Turning my head I looked out into the darkness, looking at the door expectantly, while I hadn't seen one single person since being brought back down here, I was expecting someone to come down with my food any time now. That was one thing that my captors were surprisingly good at, keeping me fed and alive, at first I couldn't make sense of why they'd do it, bring me down food like they were, it didn't make sense as surely it would be in their best interest to have me all weak and feeble the next time they tortured me for information. But still the food kept coming. At first I had ignored the food left for me, suspicious that it might be poisoned or laced with a truth potion, however, after a while my aching hunger had gotten the better of me and I had wolfed down the bread and cheese left for me with very little thought for what might be in it. However, I hadn't experienced any kind of side effects as of yet, but even if I did, I was so hungry I doubted that I'd mind if it caused me to sprout another leg, just so long as I was fed.

I'd received three meals so far and they were the only things I had to really gage the passing of time, but even then, it could be hours or even day's in-between the food deliveries for all I knew, my internal clock being so thrown out by the disorienting and confining dark room. That said, I did know I was about due for something to be brought, even though I had never once been awake when they came. I had begun to think it was intentional, that my captors only brought me food when I was asleep, as each and every time so far I had awoke to find a few meagre rations of food, settled on a handkerchief or cloth, just a little way from me. I was adamant to see them today, which was why I was fighting to stay awake; as if I fell asleep I would surely miss them. My rational mind was telling me that I needed to observe the pattern they went through in order to plan an escape around that, but a more sensitive part of me just wanted to see a person, I had been alone down here for what felt like a dauntingly long amount of time and hadn't seen a soul since, I felt oddly lonely. Pushing those thoughts quickly aside a cleared my throat and shifted where I lay on the floor, forcing myself to think of less pathetic and more positive thoughts. The handkerchief the food came parcelled in was quite useful; I'd used one of them to clean my bloody wounds, which was a difficult task without a mirror or light but I had managed, and I had used the others to bandage some of my bloodier wounds. I was just thinking of this and how it would be a good idea to change the bandage today for a fresh one when a loud crack suddenly echoed across the cellar and I shot bolt upright.

Standing in the darkness, its wide eyes fixed fearfully on me, was a House Elf, robed in a dress made out of a tea towel and a handkerchief full of the same bread and cheese I had been eating clutched in its small grip. Stunned I looked on, not having seen this coming at all. So this is whose been helping me, I thought, feeling immense gratitude towards the elf who had been keeping me alive and looking over to smile at it, only to watch as it dropped the food it was holding and began to smack its self repeatedly on the head.

"Bad, Kidda!" The Elf whimpered, revealing with her light airy voice that she was a girl and probably a young one at that "Bad, bad, Kidda! She promised she would not be seen!"

Horrified to be causing her distress I quickly got to my feet and crossed the room towards her, forgetting, momentarily, about my own problems only hating that she was punishing herself like this and recalling the time Hermione and I had spent on SPEW. I wanted to help her.

"Hey," I implored gently as I dropped to the floor beside her, anxious as she continued to slap herself "please stop, it's okay. You don't need to hurt yourself, you can stop."

"I cannot miss," Kidda insisted tearfully as her greyish cheeks tinged pink with her hand marks "I cannot, I is been seen!"

"Seen by who? Me?" I asked and as the elf nodded I quickly reached out to grab her hands, lightly restraining them and preventing her from hurting herself, anticipating her next self-attack "Don't worry, it doesn't matter if I've seen you, it's not like I've got anyone to tell that you've been here. It's fine, no one will know." But the fearful looking elf only widened her eyes again before shaking her head.

"That's not it, miss, that's not it." she said anxiously, though I was pleased to see she wasn't trying to hit herself any more.

"What is it then?" I asked in confusion but Kidda only shook her head again, a clear indication that she couldn't tell me "Who told you I wasn't allowed to see you?" I asked as dark suspicion rose up within me and I realised that she must be the Malfoy's House Elf, the one they had gotten to replace Dobby, that thought caused me to wonder where Dobby was again, but I quickly pushed that aside. If Kidda was the Malfoy's elf what was she doing down here bringing me food? Surely that wouldn't be allowed, surely they wouldn't want me to be fed, and if that was the case then why was she risking her livelihood to help me? I couldn't understand it.

"I cannot say miss." Kidda said regretfully "I wish that I could," she added with a sudden passion "oh, if only Kidda could tell you miss, then you'd know…then you'd know."

"Know what?" I asked her but Kidda, realising her mistake, quickly shook her head and tried to smack herself again, though I held fast onto her so she that couldn't. "Never mind, never mind!" I hurriedly soothed, worried about what she might do "it doesn't matter, it was stupid to ask."

"No, not stupid miss, Kidda wishes she could tell you the truth, but she cannot."

"I understand," I said sitting back down properly and releasing an upset looking Kidda's little wrists, she looked so dejected then, so genuinely sorry that she couldn't tell me that it felt wrong to restrain her like that, and besides, she looked to be in a better frame of mind now, at least where self-harm was concerned, "and you don't have to call me miss, by the way, I'm hardly anyone's miss at the moment." I said grinning in an attempt at a joke and gesturing around the cellar, though feeling quite depressed by what I had just said, and from the way she looked around I could only assume Kidda felt the same. "You can just call me Ivy if you want."

"Kidda is more comfortable with miss, miss," Kidda told me, wringing her hands anxiously in front of her tea towel dress "it is more respectful."

"I'm not your mistress though, Kidda, just a prisoner." I said "and I owe you thanks anyway, since I'm guessing it's you that has been bringing me the food. So thank you."

Kidda, for a moment, looked as though she wanted to contest my words, in fact the elf even opened her mouth to speak only to quickly shut it again, apparently thinking better of it, and I had learned enough by that point that even though I wanted to know what she would have said, I didn't ask.

"Kidda doesn't need your thanks mistress," the little elf said as she dutifully bent down to pick up the food she had dropped "Kidda is just glad you is looking well."

"Yeah," I agreed with a sarcastic grin as I took the food she offered me "real beauty queen I am. Thanks." I added with regards to the food and looked down at the thickly cut slice of bread and the slab of creamy cheese, all warped together inside a silken handkerchief, I felt my stomach rumble and my mouth water and I wanted nothing more than to scoff it, however I resisted, not wanting Kidda to think poorly of me, she was the first person I had seen (outside of the repetitious visions that refused to leave me alone) in who knew how long.

"Do you want to sit down?" I asked, noticing that the elf was still standing while I knelt on the stone in front of her "or a bit of cheese? There's plenty, it looks like a feast since I haven't eaten in so long, and I'll bet you've been too busy today to eat yourself."

"Oh no miss!" Kidda exclaimed in shock and I felt my eyes widen in alarm and realised that I had probably offended her, knowing how strictly elves kept to their laws of servitude, even though Kidda and I were probably on a par right now, "you must eat it, you is hungry, not Kidda, and Kidda can stand, she never sits with a mistress."

"There's no mistress here, Kidda," I repeated sitting myself down in a more comfortable position, crossing my legs and drawing the food up to my mouth, while the elf shook her head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'not yet'. However, while I knew I couldn't have heard her right I still watched her suspiciously for a moment before adding "Are you sure you don't want to sit? You're probably very tired." I said, thinking of how hard I knew House Elf's worked and knowing that her job was probably a thousand times tougher given where she worked. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor girl, I certainly wouldn't want to work for the Malfoy's and I knew how badly Dobby had suffered at their hands.

"Kidda will sit a moment, miss," the elf agreed almost as though she were performing a duty or doing me a favour, which in spite of everything made me smile "but then she must get back to work, the master will be waiting for me." Giving in to my ravenous hunger I quickly took a large bite of bread and cheese; it tasted like heaven in my half-starved state, and chewed eagerly while she spoke.

"No worries," I agreed somewhat disappointedly, as I would be sorry to see her go, with her here I had someone to have someone to talk to, it helped me forget "what's it like?" I asked before I could think or stop myself "working for the Malfoy's I mean?"

The elf suddenly looked alarmed again, her big tennis ball eyes turned on me in worry and instantly I felt like crap. I shouldn't have asked her that, Kidda would undoubtedly be treated cruelly and coldly by her masters, but because of her loyalty to them I knew she couldn't say a bad word against them; I had put her in an awkward position by asking that question and quickly tried to rectify it.

"You don't have to answer that," I reassured her "I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry." I said, glancing apologetically at the elf and hoping that I hadn't offended her.

"No miss, I will answer it. Kidda works hard, she has a big house to run and a very important family to care for, they need Kidda's help with a great many tasks," Kidda told me and the small girl couldn't suppress a shudder that rocked her tiny form, a look of past horror that ghosted across her face and as Kidda regained herself I wondered what they had made her do that was so terrible "but Kidda does not wish to complain," the elf assured me "my masters are good to me, even though Kidda is always making mistakes and doing things wrong, Kidda is content."

Slowly I lowered the food I had still been eating, indignant anger rushing through me once more, as clearly Kidda wasn't telling me everything, I felt a wave of fresh hatred for the Malfoys on her behalf, and once again couldn't hold my tongue. "I'm sorry, Kidda," I said my anger evident in my voice "but I don't see how you can be, the Malfoys are sick, cruel, vicious people…"

"Oh no!" Kidda interrupted with earnest reaching out to me and shaking her head fiercely "please no miss. The Malfoys are not so bad; Kidda deserves what she gets…"

"Somehow I doubt that Kidda, I know what these people are like," I said in a hard tone as the fingers of my spare hand reached up to wrap around the ring again, Kidda, looking distressed, followed the movement with interest and I was suddenly very conscious of that but didn't let go. "If they hurt you it is probably for no good reason, they are all sadistic monsters who can only delight in the pain and misery of others."

"Not all miss, not all," Kidda insisted from where she sat beside me looking genuinely upset by my words "Master Draco is not so." She said and the words, spoken so innocently from such a sweet being, felt like a great knife to my heart that twisted painfully and caused my breath to hiss out and an involuntary flinch to jolt me.

"I'll have to disagree there," I said as evenly as I could, though Kidda appeared to have noticed my distress and was eyeing me keenly, her gaze so penetrating I was sure she could see how her words had hurt me, "but I'm sorry I spoke badly of your family, it wasn't right." I said as kindly as I could and even managed to smile at Kidda, who still watched me curiously.

"It doesn't matter miss," she said in what was almost a preoccupied tone as he continued to watch me and I felt suddenly self-conscious "but are you well miss? You look terribly pale." How can you tell? I wondered almost jokingly at the elf's concern, it's so dark down here and I'll bet my face is covered with bruises and lumps, it's a wonder she can see anything, but apparently she could, as she continued to regard me with worry.

"I'm fine," I assured her with another forced smile, though Kidda seemed to see right through it "or at least as much as I can be." I added as I laughed in a way that verged on hysterically, and suddenly I was very aware of the fact that I needed to calm myself down, however, hearing his name had sent me into a kind of weird state, and it wasn't good.

"All will be well, miss," Kidda said softly as she reached out and took hold if my hand, surprising me a little and once more I was filled with gratitude for the little elf "Kidda knows it will."

A tired smile barely tweaking the corners of my lips I met her concerned gaze "let's hope so Kidda." I said before feeling a little embarrassed by my melancholy mood and quickly going back to eating.

The two of us lapsed into a silence then and I watched as Kidda stood anxiously, shifting on her feet and looking from me to the ceiling nervously, and then, looking no more calm, the uncomfortable elf glanced around the dark and dingy room and seemed to spot something.

"Have you finished with the handkerchiefs, miss?" Kidda asked and looking over my shoulder in the direction Kidda was staring I realised that although I couldn't see them Kidda must have spotted the bloody squares I had used to clean myself up a little. "Kidda can take them away."

"That would be great, thank you Kidda." I agreed gratefully and needing no more encouragement she quickly scurried across the floor and took up the stained scraps of silk. Finishing my meagre but well appreciated meal and sensing that this meeting was coming to an end I absentmindedly ran my thumb over the soft fabric of the handkerchief I held, my fingers brushing against a sewn monogram I hadn't noticed before, however, I quickly decided I didn't want to know who it belonged to. "Here," I said holding the handkerchief away from me as Kidda returned "you can take this one too if you want, I don't think I'll need it."

Pausing the petite elf looked up at me with large, solemn eyes and a sad expression in place, and after a moment she slowly shook her head "you keep it miss." She said, bothering me a little with her tone that seemed to imply that I might need it more than I thought, that something in my appearance or expression had made me look that pathetic, however, I ignored this minor irritation and said nothing more.

"My master will be worried miss," Kidda said apologetically as she fidgeted with the handkerchiefs in her hands and went back to acting awkwardly "I is needing to go."

"Of course," I said with a small, warm smile in her direction "I don't want you to get into trouble because of me, thanks again Kidda; you really ought not to take risks like this for me you know?" I almost chastised and this time it was the elf's turn to smile.

"Kidda is happy to, miss," she said, looking off to the side before adding fondly "after all you've done for master…" abruptly cutting herself off Kidda let out a kind of horrified gasp, sounding so alarmed that I might have thought someone had come into the cellar was everything not silent and was her gaze not fixed worriedly on me, her expression that of a dear caught in headlights. Frowning in confusion I watched as Kidda quickly turned her gaze to the floor and looked guilty, twisting the handkerchiefs round her hands and purposefully avoiding my gaze. A steady and apprehensive fear trickled in my heart that was nothing like the terror I had been feeling for days, it was a dread entirely of its own and had nothing to do with any physical fear for myself.

"All I've done for master who, Kidda?" I asked in a firm and probing voice even though I dreaded and anticipated what she might say in equal measure, even though I wished I could take the words back almost as soon as I had said them but at the same time lent in close to Kidda, imploring her to answer. "What do you mean?"

"Kidda meant nothing by it," the House Elf insisted adamantly, though even I could tell she was lying and was about to say as much when she said "I must go." And before I could utter a single desperate word, or make any kind of inquiry, a distinct crack echoed again through the cellar and Kidda was gone.

**Draco**

The swirling silver memory, so important to the stubborn, beautiful Gryffindor in the cellar bellow, was still clasped firmly in his hand, taking up all his thoughts as Draco stared pensively into its depths, his mind contemplating all the many things that could be hidden within, when a quiet knock sounded against his bedroom door, shocking Draco from his captivating thoughts. Jumping the frantic blond almost dropped the vial and could feel his battered heart beating uneasily at the very thought, gripping the bottle all the tighter, wrapping his fingers around it and drawing it close to him so no one could see it, Draco sat up a little straighter in his chair and looked towards the door, a dark, defensive expression in place.

"Yes?" he called out in a purposefully cold and haughty voice, even though his blood was humming hopefully in his veins and he was desperate to know who was there.

"It is Kidda, master." The squeaky voice of Draco's House Elf replied and Draco instantly shot to his feet in a clatter of dress shoes.

"Thank Merlin," he breathed, feeling relief flood him and eager anticipation take hold "come in," he called to Kidda "quickly, before someone sees."

Obedient as ever the elf promptly opened the door and hurried inside, shutting it behind her silently. Unable to stay still Draco crossed the room towards her and knelt down before the thoughtful looking elf. There were so many urgent questions on the tip of his tongue, so much that he wanted- no – had to know, Kidda was the only one who could tell him all this, and there was no denying this had been what had gotten Draco through these past three days, his lifeline and source of sanity waiting for these snippets of news. However, seeing her expression Draco's excited words promptly died on his lips and feeling a dark cloud of apprehension fall over his features he spoke.

"What's the matter?" he asked and the elf looked up at him, her big, lamp-like eyes staring up at him regretfully.

"Kidda should have told her master," The elf said honestly, her words coming out as sobs "she would have understood, then she would know and she would not hate you so. All would be better if she knew."

Draco's heart stopped still in his chest "Ivy?" he asked his own blue gaze going wide with fear "she was awake, you spoke with her?"

"Yes master," Kidda admitted almost sheepishly, as though afraid of how Draco would react "I know you said Kidda must not be seen, but master she was awake, Kidda didn't know, she couldn't hide and she saw me." She said hanging her head in shame and refusing to look at her master, embarrassed to have failed him and expecting punishment.

"Never mind that, Kidda," Draco said in a voice that was surprisingly gentle, though it was clearly tinged by his impatience for news, however Kidda was still shocked by his kindness and looked up at him "that doesn't matter. Did you speak to her? What did she say? Did you tell her who sent you… how is she?" Draco asked quickly and desperately, though the last three words came out in an awkwardly gruff but earnest voice after a hesitant pause, as though he were embarrassed by his concern.

Kidda smiled somewhat knowingly "She is as well as she can be, master," she told him honestly as he attempted to regain some composure even though he failed miserably "she is tired still and malnourished but she spoke to Kidda with an energy and a spirit most would not have had." Hesitant the elf paused here, looking up at Draco who was still waiting eagerly for information and wondering if she was about to overstep her mark, it was not a House Elf's place to speak as Kidda was going to, however, her deep affection for her master prompted her to carry on anyway. She wanted him to be happy again. "Kidda told her nothing master, as you said not to, but she wishes she could! Then she would know that it is you who is sending down food for her, that you is trying so hard to get her out, then she would not speak so angrily of you!" Kidda insisted, knowing that she was right and that there was no point in keeping secrets like this, even though her master said Ivy wouldn't accept help if she knew it came from him, Kidda thought otherwise.

"She did speak to you then?" Draco asked lifting his head a little higher and fixing as impassive an expression as he could on his face to mask the sting of Kidda's words, and speaking in a tone that left no doubt to his disagreement with her beliefs and closed the matter entirely.

"Yes, sir," Kidda said withholding the sigh she longed to let out, unable to see why her master was doing this to himself but knowing better than to try and force him "she seemed glad of the company, and Kidda is not surprised, all alone in that cellar for three days, Kidda shudders to think…" the elf said, doing just as she said she would before continuing "Kidda thinks she is keeping strong though, she is just as you described." She said fondly, smiling at the flustered and anxious young man and causing him to exclaim.

"Merlin, Kidda! You've seen her before, it's not like you haven't been taking food down to her all this week!" before looking off to the side, uncomfortable, however he couldn't look away from Kidda for long, he still wanted to hear how Ivy was doing, it was the first bit of good news of the day, even if it made Draco more worried for her to hear she was still unwell.

"That is true, master." Kidda agreed, not affected in the slightest by Draco's outburst, she was used to them by this point and knew this had only to do with his deep fear for Ivy, that he was terrified for her.

"So," Draco said in a purposefully deep and nonchalant voice, though the side glance he gave the elf and his nervous appearance gave away his true feelings, he cleared his throat before continuing "what do you think about her, then?"

Kidda's smile widened "Miss Ivy is very nice," she said with the warmth of genuine approval "a good person, she was very kind to Kidda; she even asked if I would like to share her meal! Of course Kidda said no, 'miss,' I said 'you is the hungry one, not Kidda'. Yes Master Draco, Miss Ivy will make a good Mistress, Kidda likes her already."

Draco smiled, honestly pleased to have the caring elf's approval, she was the only person so far to give it, not that Draco was surprised, and astonishingly he had found himself growing fond of her these past few months. Miss Ivy, Draco thought and his smile widened, following down the path Kidda's mind had already laid out for him Draco couldn't help but be struck by a sudden image, of Ivy, a little older than she was now and standing smiling in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, giving directions to an obliging Kidda, mistress of the house and not a prisoner. Quickly Draco shook off these thoughts, cutting off the supply of joy it was feeding to his heart so abruptly that it physically hurt to stop, however he had to, what he was imagining was impossible, it was useless to pretend otherwise and it didn't do him or anyone else any good.

"Don't get too attached, Kidda," Draco said in a hard, clear voice as he got to his feet, his expression determined once more "we're getting her out of here, remember."

"Yes, yes," Kidda agreed as she followed Draco across the room and back to his desk, for once not hearing the forcedness of his tone or the tormented look on his face "have you had an idea master?" she asked with eager and determined interest, now having met Ivy her desire to free the girl twice as much as when she had just been her masters unknown love.

"Not yet," Draco said though his voice lost none of its calm resolve and he took his seat at his desk once more, Kidda's report of Ivy was spurring him on more than ever, reminding him that the deadline Voldemort had set wasn't the only one he had to beat, that there was only so much that Ivy could take before her body gave up, and a week in the dark cellar in her injured and hungry state must be taxing her. Besides that he had direction now, he knew what he had to do next, it was the only step left to take and he felt sure it would give him the inspiration he needed to come up with a suitable plan.

"But I will soon," Draco continued with fierce determination "mark my words I will. Until then though," he told her as he uncurled his fingers and looked down at the shimmering vial he still held in his hand, feeling an irresistible pull to it, and a unwavering belief that this was what he had to do next "there's something I need to look at."

**Author note: Sigh, it's safe to say I do my best work on Mondays and Tuesday's, so the ending is lacking something I think, however, I cannot put off updating any longer and I am pleased with everything else, except the fact that Kidda sounds a little bit like the BFG in places, lol, ah well. So what do you think guys? Had you forgotten about the photo? And what do you think about Kidda as a character? As always your opinions are incredibly important to me and I'd like to hear what you think as we head towards another key moment. Thanks for reading :)**


	21. Understanding

**Chapter twenty-one: Understanding**

**"I know you despise me; allow me to say, it is because you don't understand me."**

**— said by Mr Thornton in Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South**

**Draco**

His mind set completely on his task Draco wasted no time in quitting his room and heading down stairs, no sooner had he told Kidda of his plans and decided on a convincing cover story than he was already taking to the plush emerald carpets of the grand staircase, determination and conviction filling up his every pour and no amount of pleading from the elf about to change his mind. Kidda seemed to think that Draco was being foolish, that he was risking his life and the rage of his parents and Voldemort for no clear or good reason, should it be discovered that Draco was lying or that he was planning to help Ivy escape then no lenience would be shown, there would be no going back, and Kidda begged Draco to try and think of another way to do this. Draco however, was having none of it. Of course Kidda thought that, she was a natural born worrier, so Draco had learned, and besides that, she didn't understand, there was no way that she could, she couldn't feel the undeniable pull Draco felt towards the vial, or the unshakeable belief that this was something important and that it would help him. Ivy wouldn't have been carrying it around with her if it wasn't important, Draco knew that for sure but it was more than that, it felt right that he should try and view the memory, like the logical next step, Draco didn't know, he almost felt like it was meant for him. But that was ridiculous, Ivy had simply dropped it after she fell into unconsciousness, there was no design for Draco to find it, he just had and even if it didn't provide him with any idea of how to free Ivy, (and after all, why would it? It was surely a memory from way before Ivy being brought here) he still had to watch it, it was important to him.

Reaching the foot of the staircase Draco slowed his eager speed to a more socially acceptable one and slipped the memory vial into his pocket, before quickly running his hands over his hair to smooth it down and straightening his robes. All this was done as he walked purposefully through the corridors of Malfoy Manor, trying to make himself look respectable and trustworthy to his family, otherwise they would never risk letting him out of the Manor. Running over the finer details of his lie in his mind, wanting to make sure he made no mistake and did nothing to cause them to doubt him, Draco neared the drawing room door, sure that they would all be in there, however he had sent Kidda in to check first and the small creature suddenly appeared by Draco's side with a crack. He didn't jump, he was expecting her.

"The master and mistresses is in the drawing room," Kidda told him as Draco came to a stop a little way before the door, she was fiddling with the fabric of her tea towel and looked unsure as she continued "Kidda doesn't know about this, Master Draco," she said anxiously "you might get in trouble."

"I can handle them, Kidda," Draco said confidently, his eyes fixed firmly on the door and anticipating what was beyond, and Draco did feel confident, for the first time in he didn't know how long Draco felt capable and assured in his own abilities, sure of himself once more and determined not to fail. He was in his element after all, deceiving was where he excelled and to be so confident once more was elating. It was a good feeling. "I'll see you in a few hours." He said and as Kidda disappeared with an apprehensive sniffle, he started forwards once more, back straight, head held high and proud. His jaw set and his eyes alight with a blue flame once more Draco gripped the golden handle and threw the door open assuredly.

Striding into the room, once more assuming the air of someone far more important than he was (as had always been his facade at Hogwarts) Draco was well aware of the eyes of the entire room upon him as he walked forwards, full of imaginary self-importance. He didn't mind though, in fact in his current state of confidence he revelled in it, glad of the chance to trick them and full of determination. The three inhabitants of the room, his mother, father and aunt, all look up at him in surprise as they had hardly seen their suddenly moody and harsh family member for days, but for meal times and meetings with the other Death Eaters, which Draco attended religiously and with an unusually dark vigour, which frequently alarmed his mother. Having been involved in a speculative conversation about the extent of their masters fury at them and trying to think of ways to regain his favour, the three of them had instantly fell silent as Draco entered, however, it was still evident that they had been discussing something both alarming and important, as the three were sat stiff and edgy on the sofas surrounding the coffee table, hard but anxious expressions still in place. Bellatrix sat up straight as Draco neared them, sensing something in his demeanour that she didn't like and like a hissing cat with its hair up she narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth at Draco threateningly, he ignored her.

"What do you want?" Bellatrix asked harshly, quickly getting to her feet as Draco came to a stop behind his parents chair, which had its back to the door and across from which Bellatrix now stood. Sizing up his aunt Draco waited a moment to respond, insinuating with his cold, superior expression that he wasn't a mongrel pup to be commanded, that he didn't have to do as she said and that she was making herself look foolish by acting thus.

The only response Draco gave Bellatrix's question was an impassive lifting of his pale eyebrows and he held her dark gaze for a second longer before looking down at his parents, both of whom were looking over their shoulders at him expectantly but also somewhat cautiously, as though expecting another shameful outburst. Stifling the rage that flared at the sight of them, as the memory that it was each of their faults that Ivy and Draco were in this situation, his mother for her assumptions and actions, his father for his impassiveness and cowardice, and Bellatrix because she was a cruel, twisted old cow, was ever present in his mind, Draco managed to keep calm and respectful as he voiced his request.

"I've come," he said sombrely "to ask your permission to leave the Manor."

"Not likely!" Bellatrix exclaimed scathingly from across the coffee table, though Draco paid her no mind, it wasn't up to her and aside from one glacial glance in her direction he kept his eyes on his parents, who both looked more than a little shocked and suspicious.

"Why?" Lucius asked, his demeanour once more that of the authoritative head of the household, cool and cruel in equal measure, though Draco knew better, he knew his father for the pitiful being he really was.

"I have just received an owl from Snape; he wants me to go to Hogwarts by the order of the Dark Lord." Draco said evenly with just the right amount of pride and reluctant obligation, and he felt that he sounded convincing.

"Did he tell you what he wanted?" Lucius asked as he shared a looking with his suddenly alarmed looking wife, who was glancing fearfully between Draco and her husband and the younger blond didn't need to be a legilimens to know she was afraid Draco was about to be punished for his actions of three days ago. He had heard them talking about it many times, both of them were concerned and though they believed Draco's allegiance to the Dark Lord now they knew his actions wouldn't have been sufficiently punished in their master's eyes and feared when he would call for Draco.

"No, only that it was urgent and that I should go alone." Draco lied neatly and his mother paled.

"Lucius…" she started to say, her terror obvious, however she soon cut off when she spotted the calculative expression on her husband's face and blanched "no," she said with a shake of her head "no, he cannot go, he will be killed for sure!"

"He will be killed if he doesn't go," Lucius Malfoy said as he thought things over in his mind, weighing out the potential losses against the potential gains, as Draco had known his father would have "and so will we. He has to go, Narcissa, or else he will anger the Dark Lord, this way, he may be redeemed in his eyes."

"You cannot seriously believe that!" Narcissa hissed at her husband though Draco still heard every word "Its suicide!"

"It's obedience," Lucius countered firmly.

"It's happening." Draco said with somewhat irate conviction "the Dark Lord has requested it and so I must go, I'm only asking your permission because its expected and we're on a partial lockdown under the Dark Lord's command. I have to go."

"Draco you can't, it's a trap, surely you know that!" Narcissa implored desperately, fast losing control of her usually artic character and becoming frantic, however, Draco still couldn't bear to look at her and failing to supress a scowl he turned to look at his father instead, who was still contemplating his words.

"You must go," Lucius agreed "for the good of all of us. It will not do to disobey the Dark Lord, especially not now."

Having gotten all he came for Draco stiffly inclined his head towards his shrewd and callous father before going to back out of the room, trying not to be too bothered by the way in which his father had agreed to potentially put Draco's life in danger for the sake of all of them, even though Draco knew he wasn't in any danger of what his mother feared. It sickened him that his own father set the Dark Lord's approval so high that it outweighed his love for his son, that he'd sooner stay in favour than see Draco safe, and for the first time he started to see the wider effects of Voldemort's tyranny, the unconscious way he was destroying lives. Draco didn't manage to retreat more than a few steps before Bellatrix shouted out.

"You're going to just let him leave?" she screeched, her expression one of complete and utter disbelief "How can you trust him, when there's every chance that he's just sneaking out to betray us and the Dark Lord again?"

"Draco is not a traitor," Narcissa insisted firmly, not about to let her sister talk like that about her son anymore and Draco couldn't help but think that if only she knew the truth, she wouldn't be so quick to defend him. No, Draco wasn't going off to sell Voldemort's secrets to his enemies, but he sure as Hell wasn't loyal to any of them anymore.

Bellatrix, unlike the others, refused to believe that Draco was on the Dark Lords side, she had seen betrayal, seen what in her eyes was weakness, and she could never and would never forgive it. To her Draco was no longer her nephew; just the pathetic Blood Traitor who had the potential to bring down her beloved Voldemort's regime, and that was something she couldn't let happen.

"How can you be so blind, Cissy?" Bellatrix hissed lividly, gesturing to Draco wildly "He's shown his true colours and they are as red and gold as any other filthy traitor, if you let him go then he will bring about the Dark Lord's end, I am sure of it!"

"Flattered though I am by your estimation of my powers," Draco said with cuttingly dry sarcasm "I'll do no such thing. As I said before, I know where my loyalties lie and what could I possibly stand to gain from the Dark Lord's downfall?" Draco asked, again raising his eyebrows at her belittlingly and Bellatrix seethed, sucking in a deep breath and opening her mouth to impassionedly answer Draco's question, however she didn't get the chance to speak.

"You must go now," Lucius said in a tone that clearly said this was the final word on the matter "the Dark Lord will not forgive tardiness."

His gaze still locked with Bellatrix's, as aunt and nephew engaged in a stare off, neither one willing to back down, Draco tightened his eyes and felt his lip curl at the commanding tone of his father's voice, feeling that Lucius had long since lost that right and irritated to think his father still thought himself in control. However, once more Draco mastered his anger and seizing his chance to escape began to retreat from the room without another word. Narcissa got to her feet as he exited, Draco noticed, a look of deep anxiety on her face as her pride battled with her maternal concern over Draco's safety. She looked as though she wanted to say something, perhaps a warning or a few words of encouragement, however, pride won out in the end and Narcissa said nothing, her thin mouth snapping shut when the son she hardly recognised shut the door on them. Watching his wife Lucius felt a prang of sympathy and shared her fear for their son, nevertheless he soon pushed that aside, Draco was a skilled wizard and this was for the greater good of the family, to survive they needed to get back in Voldemort's good graces. So lost in thoughts of their collective troubles and trying not to consider Bellatrix's theory about things (as they would all be dead if that were true), Lucius left Narcissa standing where she was, staring at the door, and returned his gaze to the coffee table, hoping that Draco could save their family.

Bellatrix was fuming as she watched them. Embarrassed to be linked with such a spineless, simpering family and furious that Draco had been allowed to talk to her like that, Bellatrix shot daggers at the drawing room door with her eyes. Oh how she wished she could, Bellatrix thought with sick, livid pleasure, that would soon tame the boys disobedience and cheer her up both, however, she had lost her dagger three days ago, when she killed the treacherous House Elf, Dobby. The thought almost brought a smile to her lips, almost. And it was as Bellatrix was revelling in the retribution she had delivered, and the retribution that was yet to come (as she would make Draco pay) that she remembered another person who was avoiding justice, the Seer, Ivy Jones. Sitting in the cellar as comfortable as you like, only still alive at all because the boy had developed unnatural feelings for her, it wound Bellatrix up, made her half wild with rage and caused her clawed fingers to ball into fists and a scowl to twist her features. It wasn't right, the girl was a liability, a threat to the Dark Lords power, should she escape then the information she could give Potter would ruin them, she needed to be gotten rid of, and quickly. Bellatrix would have been happy to do it, to dispense the justice she was sure the Mudblood was owed, she had even made sure to put her in her place when she locked her in the cellar, leaving her even more beaten and broken than she had been before, but it wasn't enough, Bellatrix wanted the honour of killing in insolent creature, who threatened her dear master. She couldn't though, the Dark Lord wanted Jones alive and weak, so that he could extract the visions and memories from her, not that Bellatrix thought that was of any consequence, and besides, she was sure they never would get the information from her any way, not with the boy interfering every time she was harmed. It made her sick, the way he cared for her, it was disgusting and she knew full well that Draco had no sooner renounced Ivy Jones than Bellatrix herself would sprout wings and a halo. At least that was one good thing about his current absence, she thought as she continued to glare at the door he'd left through, he wasn't here to keep setting off her spell on the cellar door, trying to get to her. Then, in that instant, an idea occurred to Bellatrix like a bolt of lightning and a cruel, sadistic grin spread across her face in a way that had even her brother-in-law shuddering. Draco was gone; there was no one to stand guard over the girl. With thoughts of glory and the Dark Lords renewed faith and gratitude filling her head Bellatrix continued to grin as she took her new wand from her robe pocket and examined in with deep intent, they were going to do things her way now.

Unaware of his aunt's lethal epiphany Draco was already racing from the Manor, forsaking a coat and sprinting down the front steps with only the potion vial and his wand in his possession. In no time at all Draco was beyond the gilded gates at the end of the drive and appertaining to Hogwarts, the crushing pain of apparition lifting Draco was once again filled with hope as his gaze landed on the familiar gates of the school, topped on either side by a large statue of a winged boar, that if Draco was perfectly honest he had never understood. Walking with as much confidence and pride as he could put into the movement (which was surprisingly a lot) Draco made his way up the muddy dirt path towards the gates, his pace not faltering in the slightest when the two lesser Death Eaters guarding the gates aimed their wands at him, however they soon recognised who he was and with a condescending glare from him lowered their wands in respect. He came to an impatient stop before them, he didn't recognise either of them so they must have been even further down the pecking order than he had thought. One was a young and lanky wizard with long brown hair and a large nose, while his fellow was a short and round older man with red hair.

"Open the gates," Draco demanded, no greeting, no explanation just plain, abrupt commands, letting the wizards know that Draco outranked them.

"We can't," the younger of the two said, but looking reluctant to say so "Professor Snape is out and we have strict instructions not to let anyone in or out until he returns."

Feeling a flash of genuine irritation at these words, as they were keeping him from Ivy's memory and slowing down his progress, Draco scowled and the brown haired man flinched. "Do you not know who I am?" Draco asked irately as he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm with angry, jerky movements "I am Draco Malfoy, Professor Snape's personal student, I have received express instructions from the Dark Lord himself to go into the school on business and if you know what is good for you, you will stand aside and let me in." Draco snapped, brandishing the Dark Mark at the wizards, a standard protocol for such things, and he watched as they paled and took on board his words. Draco was willing to bet that these two hadn't seen their master once since their initiation, and was going to play on their obvious fear.

"Sorry, Mr Malfoy," the older wizard said quickly and respectfully, while the other only stood there looking frightened "we didn't know to expect you, please, accept our most sincere apologies."

"Just stand aside, and don't hold me up any further." Draco told them in cold dismissal and the two quickly nodded, stepped aside and with a unanimous wave of their wands the mammoth gates opened for Draco and the blond strode in without another word.

Continuing his trek up the path Draco sped up in anticipation, sparing only a passing thought of triumph at how easy getting past the Death Eaters had been before his mind once more returned to contemplating what would be in the vial. Draco didn't really know the kinds of things people usually put in memory vials, though he supposed that it might only contain something strategic or to do with Potter's efforts in the war that Ivy wanted to go over for purposes of their resistance, the kind of things Voldemort would be desperate to see, and if he was honest he would be disappointed if that was the case. In truth Draco hoped that the vial contained a more personal memory, one from Ivy's childhood or school years perhaps, though Draco scarcely allowed himself to consider that he might be in it too, as that was surely too much to hope for. Fast approaching the castle Draco forced his thoughts onto more immediate things, like his chances of getting though the castle undetected. There was still a chance that he would be discovered even though it was the holidays, and he couldn't risk that, so Draco had to be wary. However, Draco felt that the odds were in his favour. Ever since Snape had taken over the school no students opted to stay during the holidays and very few teachers remained, in fact, the Carrows were likely to be Draco's only problem and he doubted they would be anywhere in sight since there were no students about to punish. Taking to the stone front steps Draco opened the great, oaken doors cautiously, cringing as they squeaked on their hinges and peering out into the Entrance Hall before he proceeded, satisfied that it was deserted he went inside.

Excitement and expectancy making his heart beat erratically against his ribs, his chest to tighten and blood to rush in his ears Draco made his way across the hall at a half jog, not caring if anyone saw, he was so anxious to get up to the Headmasters Office. Many times last year had Draco heard Ivy, Potter and their friends talking about Potter watching memories in Dumbledore's office, at the time he had thought very little of it, but it hadn't taken him very long after reading a book on memories to figure out that Dumbledore had a Pensieve and hoping that Snape hadn't gotten rid of it since he took over, which would have been unbearable, Draco headed for the Grand Staircase. A familiar and surprisingly welcoming scent greeted Draco as he passed the staircase that led down to the dungeons, it made him pause a moment while he tried to figure out exactly what it was he could smell. Standing there he detected the warm, floral smell of gardens and plants, reminding him of the grounds in the spring time, the crisp, clean smell of freshly laundered sheets, the sharp wooden smell of polish, and citrus. The last scent was what gave it away, such a distinctive citrusy smell would forever have only one association in his mind and instantly Draco knew Slughorn must have been making Amortentia. Drinking in the entrancing concoction Draco forced himself to move again, thinking about why he was here in the first place and needing no more persuasion. Taking to the staircase two at a time Draco was soon standing outside the stone gargoyle that hid the Headmaster's Office from view and with only a passing thought for the possibility that Snape might still be inside, having decided not to go after all, a thought to which Draco was sure if he saw his old mentor again with the way he felt right then he'd take him easily, Draco gave the password (pureblood) to the gargoyle and it sprang aside. Heart pounding excitedly Draco wasted no time in sprinting up the stairs, unaware that the next few moments would change the way he looked at things, forever.

**Ivy**

'After all you've done for master…' Ivy mused in troubled thought from where she sat with her back against the cold stone wall of the cellar, once again dressed in her jumper and with Draco's ring securely hidden behind it. What on Earth had Kidda meant by that? I asked myself as I continued to frown confusedly out into the darkness, haunted by the elf's words even though she had surely vanished a while ago. I couldn't wrap my head around Kidda's words, they didn't sit right in my mind and I had been obsessively dissecting them ever since she had left, trying to understand why they were so significant to me. There was only one master Kidda could mean, unless she had had other master before coming here, and that was Draco. But I hadn't done anything for Draco, not anything Kidda would be pleased with anyway, as it was clear she held the blond haired traitor in high esteem. But what else could she mean; Kidda was fond of Draco wasn't she? She hadn't been trying to be sarcastic? No, I had never heard an elf being sarcastic, so surely she meant what she had said with perfect sincerity, but even then that still made no sense as I hadn't done anything FOR Draco, unless you counted taking him down a peg or two while we were at school, but obviously that had done nothing for him. Bewildered and oddly irritated I drew my knees up to my chest and scowled, unable to get Kidda's words out of my head and convinced that they meant something, that they were important, but completely unable to figure out what. Or maybe just unwilling, the words drifted before my mind and I shrugged them off, why would I be unwilling to figure out what she meant? That was ridiculous.

Get a grip Ivy, I chastised myself internally, it probably doesn't matter anyway, you're just bored, frightened, and alone and clutching at things to make you seem like you have a purpose, Kidda probably didn't mean anything by it, odds were it was just a slip of the tongue. But still… I thought as I pulled the ring out from under my top and clutched it tightly. As I scowled irritably down at my hand, tightly wrapped around the annoying bit of jewellery I was too sentimental to get rid of, I was suddenly struck by a wave of nausea and groaned aloud. Not again! I thought as my world began to sway where I sat and the early warnings of an approaching vision disrupted my brooding. I had barely had a moment to myself since I had been brought back down here, visions, the same ones every time, attacked me almost continually and it was beginning to get tiresome, I knew my friends had to be careful of a room filled with money and guarded by a dragon, I'd tell them if I ever got out of here alive, and I knew that in my own future I was going to have yet another run in with Malfoy and co, again, if I managed to escape this cellar with my life. I knew all that, I'd seen it countless times, couldn't my inner eye just leave me in peace to stress about my life? Apparently not, as the cellar soon faded completely to black, I gradually lost the feeling in my swaying body and an unearthly breeze swept across the forefront of my brain as my vision took me. However, when the vast darkness was vanquished by my second sight, I was not standing in a room full to the brim with gold and jewels, or facing Draco in a room the size of a cathedral, I was momentarily to find that I was, once more, upstairs. However, my surprise didn't last long as I was soon plunged head first into the scene before me. The sight the Other Side was choosing to show me chilled me to my very core.

My body was trembling, shaking and quivering with convulses of fear, agony and pure hatred as a cackling Bellatrix stood above me with her wand fixed squarely upon me. Rush after rush of searing, bloody pain wracked my body and I had to press my trembling hands to my lips to keep myself from screaming out in agony. I refused to scream, I would not scream, that would mean giving in and I couldn't bear to see the sick look of satisfaction of Bellatrix's face if I did, and that alone was enough to motivate me. Feeling a hatred that rivalled my own for Voldemort I forced myself to stare up at her, I made myself look her in the eye and transferring as much as my loathing into my expression as I could I watched as she noticed my defiance and her grin widened all the more. I saw nothing around me as the psychopath of a witch, her pale face twisted with mirth, was the only thing I could see before she turned up the power of the Cruicatus Curse tenfold and I doubled over, pressing my face as hard as I could into the carpet and smothering a howl of pure, undiluted torture as Bellatrix taught me my lesson.

"You will do as I say, Mudblood," I heard Bellatrix say from somewhere, though she sounded distant as my starvation and agony had my brain struggling to function and my eyes were clamped firmly shut, I felt disorientated by the pain. "You will do as I say and then I will kill you."

My vision lifted then, my mundane sight returned to me and I found myself lying on my side in the Malfoy's cellar, half expecting to find myself in the drawing room what with the ghost of Bellatrix's curse shaking my body dangerously and the echo of her gleeful threat still sounding in my ears. However, I had no time to think or worry about what I had just seen at all, as no sooner had the room stopped spinning around me than the sound of someone's footsteps on the stone staircase behind the door echoed out. I was sat bolt upright in an instant, regardless of how doing so, so soon after a vision caused me to sway again where I sat and to feel faintly sick, I didn't care about that though, I had bigger problems. A hushed but undeniably excited voice could be heard muttering something behind the door, undoubtedly lifting the curse placed upon it, and with my heart pounding violently in my chest and cold sweat born of terror coating my already chilled skin, I used the wall to pull myself upright on shaky legs. My hands slipping and grasping at the damp wall, my palms quickly becoming blooded messes against the sharp stone, I watched the door, waiting for its inevitable opening. This was it, I thought as I held my head high, refusing to act the coward or let my captors know how frightened I really was, I stood ready with my back against the wall as the door handle was turned, the sound echoing deafeningly in the silence of the cellar. I sucked in a deep, ragged breath and braced myself as the door was thrown violently open, I felt no surprise, only disgust, hatred and an undeniable fear as I recognised Bellatrix standing there, pale as death and grinning at me darkly.

**Draco**

Anticipation blinding him, making him reckless and foolish, Draco barely glanced at the Headmasters Office when he burst impatiently through the door. Only just registering that Snape wasn't here and that he was alone but for the sleeping portraits, Draco made a beeline for the Pensieve as soon as his searching gaze fell upon it. He recognised it instantly from the image in the book, a shallow stone basin with runes and symbols that Draco didn't understand carved decoratively into it, but doubtlessly having some deeper meaning, however, none that Draco stopped to think about. Reaching the Pensieve and banging his knees against the base in his haste, Draco didn't stop to consider any possible consequences or to prepare for any emergency or incident, it didn't occur to him that it was dangerous to go into the Pensieve without any kind of plan in place, he didn't worry about whether or not Snape would return while he was still inside, or if anyone would need to contact him while he was out of their reach, the need to know was simply too great. Moving as quickly as he could Draco snatched the ornate vial out of his robes pocket while he peered longingly at the basin, watching the mysterious silver substance, that Draco saw was neither gas nor liquid, but the same peculiar substance as the memory in the vial, ripple and shimmer, moving gently as though a mild breeze was caressing its surface when the air around it was really calm and still. His desperation and expectation reaching fever pitch Draco fumbled clumsily with the vial in his haste, groaned irritably at the time he was taking, and managing to get a hold on the vial right tried to pull off the stopper. Draco's hand, expecting the cork to come off easily, slid ineffectively along the vial. Surprised and more than a little annoyed Draco tried again, this time gripping the vial as hard as he could while trying to free the stopper, he grit his teeth and pulled with all his might but still the vial refused to open.

"Bloody thing!" Draco exclaimed irately as the stopper held firm and he bent over, pressing the vial into his stomach with the effort with which he pulled. He hadn't the patience for this, he HAD to know what was in there and he couldn't wait any longer, it was more than just a half-hearted whim, Draco was sure this was important, to him if no one else. "Why won't it, bloody, open-?" Draco stopped, a long stream of curses cut off by the sudden and almost miraculous opening of the vial, he had felt the lid lift in his grip and stunned he raised the vial to see that it was indeed open.

Taking nothing for granted and, no matter how careless he was being, knowing full well that time was of the essence, he quickly tipped the memory into the Pensieve, watching in somewhat impatient awe as the beautiful silver substance swirled like mist but poured like water as it was spilled from the vial into the basin. Remembering the instructions he had read about what to do next Draco set the vial down on a table beside the basin and with no further thought promptly lowered his head into the Pensieve. The sensation of falling gripped him; he felt as though he had been grabbed by invisible hands and pulled deep into the basin, hurtling down towards an undefined land. Fear thrilling his heart, which ached correspondingly, having felt more emotion in the past three days than it had in months, Draco was relieved to find he didn't crash into the ground as he had feared, but appeared upright and dignified where he landed in the vision.

A little disorientated from the fall, it took Draco a little while to recognise the tall dark shapes materialising in the mist around him, and confusion soon took over. Trees, mammoth and closely spaced sprung up imposingly all around, seeming to close in on Draco and grounding him rapidly in the suddenly ominous memory. Thick, unnerving darkness surrounded Draco where he stood, there was no light at all that he could see, the dense canopy of leaves above him and the thick foliage on his every side permitting no light to enter this place, and despite this Draco felt reasonably certain that it was night time. He was in the Forbidden Forest, he was sure of it, and while he had tried to avoid the deadly place whilst at school, he had found himself here in the past more times than he would have liked. However frowning deeply it wasn't for his own past discomfort that Draco looked around the fearsome forest in confusion. This was definitely the memory that had been in the vial? Draco wondered as he looked around himself in disappointment, this was the memory so dear to Ivy that she kept it with her at all times? Draco didn't know exactly what he had expected but this certainly hasn't it, he knew Ivy's tastes and ideas often seemed eccentric to him and that she had frequently bewildered him, but still, he thought in mystified astonishment and unable to see anyone or anything but dense forestry, what is the significance of this?

It was just as Draco was trying to remember if the basin needed to be cleared of old memories first, or if he had perhaps done something wrong (though he was doubtful of that, he'd followed the instructions exactly), when the sound of hurried rustling, which had been a subtle, subliminal sound until that point when who (or what) ever was making the noise came closer, reached his ears. Freezing in fear, despite how he was only a spectator in this scene and nothing could harm him, Draco gave in to his automatic reaction to the unknown dangers of the forest, and recalling the many times over the years he had ran for his life through these trees Draco quickly stumbled backwards away from the noise, tripping over roots and dodging trees even though he wasn't really there. However, Draco's pursuer was too fast, or rather, he was too slow as he found that for some reason his legs wouldn't go at the pace he wanted them to, they seemed to slow and allow the approaching rustling the chance to catch him. As he ran, his heart beat pounding in his chest and cold fear filling him, Draco could hear heavy footsteps hitting the hard earth with an uneven thud, thud sound, growing nearer and near until with a sudden finality the thing Draco was running from crashed through a large bush and came into view. Stopping dead Draco immediately felt stupid.

"Of course," Draco muttered dryly, his irritation quickly rising as he watched the half giant Hagrid thunder through the threes behind him. Well and truly scowling now Draco couldn't help but feel his frustration increase, he had expected more than this, somehow, and though it had occurred to him that Ivy might cherish a memory of her friends, he had still held onto the hope that the memory would be one she shared with him. Refusing to allow himself to feel too disappointed, of course Ivy wouldn't want to go over her memories with him, Draco watched with disinterest as Hagrid looked over his shoulder as he ran.

"Come on you two," he called as Draco lazily walked by the enormous man's side, and following Hagrid's gaze he spotted two small shapes emerging through the trees, forcing aside branches and clambering over logs with considerably more effort than their friend. It didn't take Draco long to realise that it was Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom who were battling through the undergrowth, panting and exhausted but moving with obvious determination. "The screams came from over 'ere."

Screams? Draco wondered with a sudden interest as the four of them, Hagrid, Granger, Longbottom and the invisible Draco ploughed on though Ivy's memory of the Forbidden Forest. And that was what had caught his interest; this was Ivy's memory, wasn't it? He had thought that it was, and if that was the case then were was she? Shouldn't she be here now? Draco had an unsettling feeling that Ivy was here, that the screams they were talking about involved her somehow and that was a thought that filled Draco with dread even though he knew Ivy was currently alive, though far from well, in his cellar and that this was just a memory. However, that knowledge meant nothing to Draco, rational thought meant nothing to a man in love, and he abruptly picked up his pace as they continued thought the forest, noticing as he did, with some surprise, that Granger and Longbottom, who he now walked beside, were only young, first or second years at most. Why did that mean something to him? Draco asked himself as Granger helped Longbottom over a particularly large and alarmingly spiky log, what had happened in the forest back then? Draco's thoughts stopped there however, as a quiet but clear and familiar voice suddenly sounded through the trees, shocking him greatly.

"If I die here it's your fault, Jones," a young and obviously petrified voice snapped from up ahead, a voice Draco instantly recognised as his own.

"Why?" an indignant female voice asked, though the sound quivered as much as the first. Ivy, Draco thought, his heart giving an optimistic leap at the sound of her voice, even as he picked up his pace, desperate to reach her now, because of the obvious fear in her voice.

"They're this way." Granger urged, having heard their voices too, and spurred on by this as much as Draco all three of the others sped up; however, as they crashed yet more loudly through the threes in their desperation Draco could hear no more of the conversation, no matter how much he strained his ears.

Scowling and willing them to run a little quieter, clumsy oafs, he thought, Draco jogged ahead of the others, determined to hear more. He had been wrong, they were both in this memory, just a short way ahead of him by the volume of their voices before, and he was frantic to hear more as he wracked his brain trying to remember this. He had been here, in the forest with Ivy in first or second year, but what had happened?

"W…what do you think it is?" Draco heard his young, frightened self ask, sounding louder than before and telling him that they were getting close.

"I don't know." Ivy asked in the sweet and timid voice Draco remembered from the first time they had met, on the train in first year when she had been shy and uncertain, that little voice sounded terrified now.

Ducking under a low branch, though he probably hadn't needed to, with the others hot on his heels Draco ran, sensing other people just beyond the thorny bush just ahead of him, crashing through it and feeling nothing Draco was the first into the little clearing and he abruptly skidded to a stunned halt, his entire body going numb with surprise. Standing before him, the undergrowth reaching up to their knees and looking incredibly small surrounded by such wooden giants, were the elven year old Ivy and Draco, he knew now that they were elven years old as he recognised the scene. This memory, the one that Ivy had on her person when she was brought to the Manor, was of the day in first year that Draco, Ivy, Potter, Granger and Longbottom were to serve their detention for being caught out of bed, they had been sent to help Hagrid in the forest and had been split up into two groups, however, for two very different reasons Ivy and Draco had become separated from the others and banged into each other here. Draco remembered that night clearly now, he remembered the undiluted fear he had felt as he and Potter had come face to face with a dark, hooded figure drinking unicorn's blood in the forest. Little had they known that they were staring at their whimpering Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrill, trying to keep the weak and almost powerless Voldemort alive. Draco, horrified by what he saw, had done what to him any sane person would have done in that situation and arguably what some people, Ivy included, would say he should have done the next time he stood before Voldemort, he had screamed and ran. Fleeing blindly through the forest Draco had just kept going, wanting to get as much distance between himself and the vile creature behind him as possible, he hadn't stopped until he banged into Ivy. He could still remember now the look of disgust on her face when he told her he'd left Potter to fend for himself, there had been nothing timid about her then, and alarmed and stunned he had watched her as she went to head off after Potter, putting herself in danger to save him, looking back Draco supposed that Ivy must have seen something and that was why she had wondered away from the others. However, Draco knew Ivy hadn't been as brave as she had looked as at the sound of rustling in the bushes they had somehow ended up holding onto each other for dear life, terrified and having been talking too much about werewolves.

That was what struck Draco now, what caused him to stop and stare, as that was how he found himself and Ivy, gripping each other desperately and looking ahead of them in fear. Ivy was standing close to Draco, he realised, one arm wrapped tightly around his neck and the other hand clutching at his shirt, as though in her fear she had just grabbed onto whatever she could get a hold of. His younger self, meanwhile, had one arm almost protectively around Ivy's waist and was clutching one of her arms securely, both of them were shaking visibly with fear and Ivy looked as though she was about to close her eyes and turn her face into Draco's chest when the rustling Draco had forgotten about until then, was suddenly right behind him and Hagrid burst through the trees.

"You two alrigh'? I heard screaming." Hagrid asked, lifting his lamp and casting its beam across the embracing pair as they jumped, reacting to their pent up fears, however, relieved expressions soon followed and Ivy smiled, though it didn't last long.

Draco watched, perceptively taking in everything as he hadn't done the first time, and noticed Granger shooting Ivy a meaningful look, raising an eyebrow and smirking at the young Seer, Ivy looked confused until she followed Granger's pointed gaze and realised that she still held onto Draco tightly. The watching blond noticed that his younger self, sensing Ivy's movement, looked down at her and seemed to realise what they were doing at the exact same time she did. Both their eyes widened and the young pair jumped apart so quickly you'd have thought they had electrocuted each other, Ivy, Draco noticed, took a few more steps away from him than was needed and he could see a deep scowl fast forming on his younger self's face, part of an expression the more experienced man recognised as self-disgust. The eleven year old Draco was shocked and repulsed by the proximity they had shared, or rather, Draco remembered with more acceptance than at the time, the ease and comfort with which they had stood there together. It had felt right, and that had unsettled the first year Slytherin greatly, he wasn't supposed to like being around a Gryffindor. Just you wait, Draco thought looking at his confused and consequently angry looking past self, it only gets more complicated from here onwards.

"We're fine," Ivy answered, ignoring Draco who was now scowling at her as though his own feelings and current humiliation was somehow her fault, and amazingly his own past ignorance irritated Draco now.

"Ay, I'll bet yeh are." Hagrid said, the innuendo so blatant in his voice that no one could possibly miss it, Granger and Longbottom laughed at this and Ivy and the two Draco's glowered at them, as he appreciated that comment no more now than he had then.

As Granger asked Ivy what had happened to her, where she had disappeared to, Draco let his mind wander, he knew full well how this went from here, Ivy would tell them all that Draco had told her Potter was in danger and they would all go off to find him. Ivy and Draco was bring up the rear of the party so that Draco, suspicious for reasons even he didn't understand then, would ask Ivy questions about how she knew where Potter was, when he hadn't told her, and this would ultimately lead to an argument and normal programing would resume. No, this didn't interest Draco, too many dangerous thoughts were starting to slip into Draco's mind unguardedly, freely able to do so now that Ivy was in no danger and Draco wasn't engrossed in what was happening before him, and these potentially perilous thoughts brought with them hope as their companion. Why has Ivy kept this particular memory? Draco wondered as he watched the young girl, her face still flushed with embarrassment and indignation, as she tried to explain to her friend where she had vanished to. What was it about it that was significant or important to her? Was it simply a childhood memory she wished to hold onto or was there a deeper meaning, was it because of Draco that she had it and if so why couldn't they see the whole of the memory, why just this little bit? Also, if the point of the memory was Ivy's interactions with Draco was it supposed to serve as a pleasant reminder or a warning? Was she trying to show herself all Draco's faults and convince herself that he had always been a selfishly harsh person and always would be? No, Draco didn't want to believe that, he refused to let himself, the hope that was blossoming slowly and cautiously within him wouldn't let him, Ivy wasn't using this as proof of Draco's bad character, this was something else, something Draco didn't understand yet. But Draco knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was determined to figure it out.

**Author note: Yeah, so this didn't go exactly as planned, there was a lot more that I wanted to put in this chapter but as per usual I wrote a little too much and now I have to split it into two chapters, which seems to be my mantra of late. However, I hope it doesn't ruin anything, this memory is far from over and I don't want any effects to be lost!**

**Anywho, I hope you liked it, oh, and the memory used at the end of this chapter, the forest one, is the opening chapter of my prequel 'Foresight', if you enjoyed the snippet here you might want to check out the complete one if you haven't already. Thanks for reading guys. X**


	22. Hope

**"Why is it that hate comes out so easily, yet...love? It gets trapped inside." anon**

**Chapter twenty-two: Hope**

**Draco**

His mind was stuttering, the reason Ivy had singled out this memory just beyond his reach and taunting him from the edge of his thoughts, as Draco struggled to grasp the concepts and emotions stirred by this old scene. It didn't make sense, he couldn't understand why she would keep this memory separate and safe, he couldn't see what significance it could have to her, now, then or ever, and that had him frowning in confusion from where he stood, a ghost in the memory of the misty, intimidating forest. He couldn't bring himself to be afraid of shadows and sounds of the creatures moving in dense foliage any more, there were more important things than his old fears, which had been instantly blown from his mind by the thousands of possibilities invading his thoughts and raising his wretched hopes. He was too absorbed in what he had seen, unable to think of anything else but her as he watched himself and Ivy bicker and go to follow Hagrid and the others, who had now left the small clearing. Absentmindedly Draco started walking after them, his head still wrapped up firmly in his own thoughts, however, he was soon shocked from them when the scene around him started to dissolve, and suddenly the tall, commanding oaks and thick, green undergrowth were replaced by the snoring portraits and clean lightness of the Headmaster's Office.

Disorientated Draco found himself staring once again at the shallow runic basin and felt his heart drop, the slow, steady trickling of disappointment seeping through his veins. That couldn't be it, Draco thought as he looked left and right in disbelief, scowling confoundedly as he did so, the memory hadn't ended there, they hadn't even gotten to Potter yet and it had still been a while before they were due to leave the forest. It shouldn't have cut off there. There ought to have been more, Draco thought irately his anger quickly flaring, he hadn't been ready to leave, despite questioning Ivy's motives he had been content reminiscing about the past, about times gone by when everything was easier, and he resented being pulled from that world so abruptly. He had wanted, no, needed to see more, his curiosity wasn't satisfied, his hunger unstated, there was more to see there and he knew it. Disgruntled Draco refused to leave it there, there had to be more, and the desperate blond boy was instantly reaching for the ornate vial he'd put on a nearby table, so that he could check there wasn't any of the memory left in side. However, Draco's frustration and confusion only continued to rise as his searching fingers closed around nothing but air, and he found the table empty of the vial, it was as Draco noticed this that he heard the sound of someone moving behind him.

"I can imagine how hard this must be for you Severus," a calm, reasonable voice said from behind Draco and the blond froze, feeling his blood run cold in his veins, his face drain of colour and his lips prickle with the sudden urge to vomit. He knew that voice. It was a clear all-knowing voice that had always spoken truths that went right to Draco's heart of what he never wanted to admit, it was a voice that haunted him to this very day, repeating those same chilling truths. But it wasn't possible, he couldn't be here.

Slowly Draco turned, his blue eyes wide in fear as he span to face the serine and wizened face of Albus Dumbledore, the old wizard Draco had seen murdered before his very eyes and who he had had a hand in killing. Draco felt another rush of cold drip down him like ice water, chilling him from head to toe, no, this couldn't be, it wasn't possible, Dumbledore was dead! Severus, Dumbledore had said, Draco thought barely clinging on to his sanity as he turned, did that mean Snape was here too? Or was this just Draco's suppressed conscious catching up with him, making him hallucinate? Draco didn't know, but he was halfway turned around, his terrified gaze landing on the Headmaster's desk behind which the wise and supposedly dead wizard plainly sat, as substantial and human as Draco himself, his piercing gaze fixed firmly elsewhere, and not upon the horrified blond who had just appeared out of thin air-much to Draco's surprise-, when the former headmaster continued to speak.

"And I applaud you for being able to go through with this, but you know as well as I that we must let things run their course, this is of vital importance and nothing must get in their way." Dumbledore said in a clear and rational voice from where he sat, his chin resting on his lightly laced fingers and a deep, contemplative look on his face, as though his thoughts were miles and maybe even years away from this one room. Draco gulped but held his head high, trying to get a handle on his terror before the apparition or whatever this was turned on him, but failing miserably as he was made to face the man whose life he had helped to take, his long avoided guilt was catching up to him and making Draco's stomach squirm and twist painfully, as he fought back the urge to run.

"No Dumbledore," another familiar voice snapped sharply and an alarmed Draco, who had been unable to tear his gaze from the newly risen Dumbledore, turned all the way into the room and noticed Snape, the new headmaster and murder of the man before him, standing across from Dumbledore as though this was perfectly normal. It was then that things started to slot into place for Draco, that his guilty conscience loosened its grip on his frantic imagination. He must still be watching the memory; he realised as he noted subtle differences between this office and the one he had been standing in a few minutes ago, and of course rationalising that Dumbledore was dead and couldn't be here. However, Draco was no more calmed or comforted by this knowledge. "I do not know as well as you do, I fail to understand how something as trivial as this can be of any importance."

Confused and unable to comprehend what the two men were talking about, having obviously missed half of their conversation, Draco again failed to understand why Ivy had this memory in the vial, or even what connection it had to the previous one. What on Earth had their detention in the forest got to do with an old argument between Dumbledore and Snape, how had Ivy even come to possess it? Once again he couldn't figure out the link and he found himself frowning deeply as he listened to the two men argue, unable to shake the shivers of seeing the recently dead.

"No, I don't suppose that you can. Though really Severus you should understand better than most how important this is and what it can make a person do." Dumbledore said pausing for thought before continuing "Not to worry though Severus, in time you will understand or perhaps not as it is not really necessary for you to know, however if everything works out as it should they will understand the significance of this." 'They'? Draco found himself wondering even though he was only mildly interested in what was actually going on around him. They who? Then realisation hit and Draco came to the conclusion that Dumbledore probably meant Potter, Ivy and the others and that this was a memory to help them with whatever it was they were doing. Again, not something he was really interested in.

"Of course it is important for me to understand," Snape exclaimed with such ferocity that the observing boy turned in shock to watch his old mentor, who wore a startlingly dark expression and was livid with a passion Draco hadn't even thought the old potions master could feel, "if I am to be a pawn in your little game Dumbledore I expect to know why reliving my misery every day will help your cause!"

Dumbledore didn't react to Snape's outburst, Draco noticed, he simply carried on looking calm and thoughtful, almost above that kind of thing, and slowly lowered his hands to the table as he spoke, seeming to be considering Snape's words.

"You make a valid point Severus," Dumbledore allowed with a slight nod at the other man "you have every right to know why I am using you as a pawn, as you say, though really Severus, you and I both know that it isn't like that, that you will help me in this willingly, for the life you were not able to have-"

"You assume too much!" Snape exclaimed, his black eyes going wide with fury and what Draco - who from his past bullying was apt at picking up on such emotions - realised was embarrassment. "Do not over step the mark, Dumbledore! I have agreed to nothing."

"Perhaps not, but you have not gone against my wishes either," Dumbledore said neatly, though his tone softened somewhat when he continued "I am sorry if I hit a raw nerve, Severus, that was not my intention," Snape snorted loudly in disbelief but Dumbledore paid no mind "as I have said before, I understand how hard this must be and accept your need to know why their relationship is so important, and I will tell you." Dumbledore said and Draco, now observing the odd scene with interest, watched as Snape's expression grew expectant and almost desperate. However, whatever he expected or wanted to hear next was not what they heard.

"No," another startling familiar voice hissed loudly from outside, causing Draco to jump and a bittersweet thrill the rush through his heart "no, Malfoy, don't talk to me." She was here! He couldn't help but exclaim internally, even though he had known she had to turn up at some point, it still caused a unimaginably intense set of emotions to fill him at the mere sound of her voice. His heart pranged painfully at the use of his name, or more specifically the use of his surname which meant that Ivy was clearly annoyed with him in the vision, as if her words weren't enough of an indication, and Draco turned without another glance at the two men to face the doorway, from behind which Ivy's voice could be heard, and judging by the silence of the room Draco guessed he wasn't the only one doing so.

"Just hear me out," Draco heard himself say and unconsciously the stunned boy took a step towards the door "you don't understand…"

"No, I understand perfectly," Ivy said icily "and clearly you aren't here to apologise since you're incapable guilt or any emotion other than arrogance, so there's nothing that you can say that I would want to hear."

"I'm not going to beg you to listen to me, Jones." Came Draco's growled response, and Draco could hear the offense and irritation in his past self's voice as the fiercely stubborn girl refused to listen to him and he tried to gain some amount of control over the situation, to make it seem like he didn't care.

"Fair enough," Ivy said sharply and Draco could practically see the hard, passionate expression she was undoubtedly wearing "I wouldn't have listened anyway."

"Of course you wouldn't," the memory Draco replied in a darker, more menacing voice, which surprised the blond in the office greatly, "because you are a stubborn, foolish girl who has no idea how far out of her depth she really is and how much danger she is in just because she is a…"

"…Filthy Mudblood?" Ivy cut in, her tone a sarcastic question and with that Draco remembered this scene, he knew exactly where he was now. It was after the Christmas Holidays, after the few days Draco had spent with Ivy and she was still furious with him for becoming a Death Eater and agreeing to help Voldemort get information on her. Draco's suspicious and uneasy younger self had just followed Ivy up the stairs to the Headmasters Office, afraid she was going to tell Dumbledore everything. Now Draco could understand why she would have this memory, it was clearly to remind herself of how evil Draco was and why she should hate him, surely she would see this as a prime example of that, looking at only her own furious rage and ignoring his attempts to reconcile as she had done on the day. However, what Draco couldn't understand was why he was viewing the memory from this side of the door, and why he had been listening to Dumbledore and Snape's conversation as well? Had he also been right about this being something to do with the mission Potter and the others had been left?

"Because she is a Seer," Draco hardly heard himself respond, his voice had been so low, barely a rumble of a warning.

"Surely you can see it, Severus," Dumbledore said, cutting across any further conversation between the warring pair outside the door, speaking in a guiding and somewhat omniscient tone to Snape, and out of the corner of his eye Draco watched as the old Potions Master turn to look at Dumbledore, a surprisingly angry and almost….pained expression in place. "You spend more time with them than I do, you are their teacher, and surely you can see why this has to happen?" Dumbledore said and Draco paused, there it was, that 'they' again, but only now Draco and Ivy were outside and that thought stopped Draco's thoughts right in their tracks, but only for a moment. Did that mean that Dumbledore and Snape had been talking about them all along? That they were who they meant? No, that couldn't be possible, Draco thought with a frown, they had known nothing of Ivy and Draco's personal life and it was none of their business if they had, besides, what use would it be to anyone?

"I find I am still none the wiser," Snape said coldly though there was no mistaking the discomfort in his voice "you have yet to explain your motives to me."

"I will explain them to you, but not now." Dumbledore agreed in a way that clearly ended the conversation, while straightening up a little in his high-backed chair and surveying the room before him with a pensive expression on his face. Snape looked on at the then Headmaster in furious disbelief, however his scowl soon turned to the doorway when two loud bangs sounded through the room and Draco knew Ivy must have knocked on the door. Sending a somewhat amused looking Dumbledore one last tight lipped glare, Snape promptly strode across the office and yanked open the door, putting all his apparent anger at the Headmaster into the movement. Silently Draco mused that it was no wonder Snape agreed to murder Dumbledore so easily, if the older wizard was always this infuriating.

Through the gap between the frame and the door Draco could plainly see his younger, slightly less tortured self standing close to Ivy, both of them were engaged in a fervent stare off that ended a split second after Snape opened the door, when Draco saw himself quickly step away from her and they both turned their fuming gazes upon Snape, who was staring coldly down at them in disgust.

"Miss Jones, Mr Malfoy, how pleasant to see you both," Dumbledore greeted easily from behind his desk and Ivy's gaze quickly left Snape and sought out the Headmaster, softening as it did so.

"Hello Professor," Ivy greeted politely, even though there was still a visible tension between her and Draco and she looked thoroughly uncomfortable, her shoulders stiffly raised, her hands balled into tight first and an animosity crackling from her like Muggle electricity. But other than that she looked well, distressingly Ivy's year younger self looked visibly healthier and happier than her present self, Draco observed with a certain amount of guilt. Her hair was shorter here for one, a life on the run providing Modern Ivy with no opportunity to get it cut, however, the changes were deeper than that, the last time Draco had seen her, when she had been in the drawing room, she had appeared thinner, her stomach flatter and her cheeks more sallow. Here Ivy's face was alight with emotion and passion, her cheeks were flushed and there was an easiness about her despite her supposed anger, there wasn't the cloud that seemed to hang over her nowadays, that slightly haunted expression wasn't there back then. Draco's insides twisted, guilt wracking him violently as he knew full well he had more than a hand in this change, and he was sickened and infuriated by this knowledge, he hated it and tried not to make a comparison between then and now, it hurt too much.

His past self, meanwhile, was staring in dark, dutiful determination at Dumbledore, and Draco knew full well that he was thinking about the task to come, about what he had to do, and now, knowing what he did about the old headmaster, Draco was sure Dumbledore had known that was what he had been thinking too. Draco watched his younger, less troubled self turn away from Dumbledore, scowling to himself as he did so but unable to look at the man he thought he would ultimately have to kill any longer, even then it had made him feel ill with dread and horror, how did Snape do it? Draco remembered wondering and still wondered, how could Snape stand to look and talk with Dumbledore so normally, when he knew what he was going to do? The same way you let yours and Ivy's relationship grown, even though you knew you'd only have to betray her in the end, a small, irritatingly honest voice offered and Draco scowled along with his past self. However that expression didn't last on either of them. Ivy had walked past him then, stepping around Snape, who was trying to catch Draco's gaze, and walking confidently into the office, and under the gaze of his future self sixteen year old Draco's expression lifted as he followed Ivy's movements while she walked, unable to keep himself from admiring her dispute how she hated him and regardless of how he fought his own feelings for her. He was still a teenage boy after all, there was no denying that Ivy had always been easy on the eyes and her, somewhat spiteful, confidence only emphasised this in Draco's eyes, it was only natural that he should be attracted to her, he had firmly told himself. Though he could admit now that it was more than that. Draco could and had blamed his attraction to her on his raging hormones often enough, however now even he couldn't pretend it wasn't something more, that it hadn't always been something more. Though that didn't stop him from regretting his feelings, Draco thought as his younger self corrected his wandering gaze and returned his irate attention to Snape who stood impatiently by his side, wanting a word. From where he now stood, his heart a bludgeoned mess in his chest, barely beating, and caught between his agonising and unreciprocated feelings for Ivy, and his loathsome binding to Voldemort, Draco couldn't help but think it would have been better for them both if he'd just carried on in denial all last year. Then maybe he could have kept himself from making Voldemort suspicious and carried on as normal when Ivy was tortured-no, Draco corrected firmly, he could never have allowed that, no matter how ignorant of his feelings he might have been, but if he hadn't been aware of them he might have been able to help her without painting himself the traitor.

It was as Draco was miserably contemplating this; his pale eyebrows furrowed deeply and completely convinced that everything would have turned out better if he'd never allowed himself to love Ivy, that the scene around him started to dissolve once more. Dumbledore, Snape, himself and Ivy all disappeared in quick bursts of smoke, the tables and strange ornaments of Dumbledore's Office twisting out of existence along with them before a new scene suddenly exploded into life around him. Briefly Draco wondered if this was what it was like for Ivy, having visions, with all this sudden change of scenery, but he was soon caught up in the excitement of another memory and the mystery of where he was now. The awkward silence of the office, which had seemed almost deafening at the time, was replaced by the throbbing roar of students, all of them talking over each other as four long house tables, complete with chattering pupils, materialised in the mammoth stone room of the Great Hall, and a fifth table sprang into existence on a raised platform, homing the teachers, it was by this Draco found himself. The babble of the hall assaulting his ears Draco was struck once again temporarily numb by the sight of the old headmaster, standing on the flagstone floor just below Dumbledore's seat in the centre of the table, McGonagall on his right and Snape on his left, Draco watched in shame as the composed Headmaster surveyed the room over his half-moon spectacles, only to stop and stare intently when something caught his attention. Blinking himself out of his deep ravine of thought Draco remembered why he was here, to find out what Ivy kept in this vial, and noticing something odd in Dumbledore's expression, a flicker of something unreadable, Draco turned to follow the older wizards gaze.

The Great Hall was fuller than it had been the last time he had seen it, and more lively and cheerful too, Draco wasn't ignorant; he knew exactly why that was, he knew what had changed. The Muggleborns, so called Bloodtraitors, Muggle sympathisers and enemies of the Dark Lord, they were all still here, safe, happy and content, there wasn't that fear here any more either, in this time the students didn't cower together in clusters around their tables, their heads bent low over books and food, making little conversation and eyeing the patrolling Carrows with fear, there was a nervousness about the room now but it wasn't the same, this was before Voldemort had taken over. But when? Draco wondered, trying to shake off the awful reminder of what Hogwarts had become, this could be any day in any year that Ivy had chosen and he couldn't begin to tell which. Making his way away from the Teachers Table, as nothing interesting was going to happen up there, Draco made his way down between the middle of the tables, snippets of conversations, magic paper airplanes and bits of thrown food all coming his way but making no impression on him, he wasn't interested. About halfway down the tables he spotted himself, looking much the same age as he had in the last memory, only with darker circles around his eyes, sitting a few seats from the end at the Slytherin Table, which was on Draco's left. Draco noticed he was looking deeply unimpressed and actually quite anxious as Pansy clamoured for his attention and he scanned the hall in search of something, a deep set frown in his brow.

Draco didn't have to wait long to find out what his past self was looking for. The heads of both Draco's turned to the doors as another group of students walked in, and three pairs of vivid blue eyes instantly located one girl within the crowd. Ivy. Looking captivatingly bewildered Ivy stepped into the Great Hall, her cupids bow lips puckered slightly as she tucked a stand of thick mahogany hair behind her ear and scanned the room, tearing his gaze away from the confused girl Draco looked back at his younger self. Sympathising with himself as he watched Past Draco sit a little taller in his chair, his chest puffing out as though the doubtlessly pounding heart in his chest was pulling him forwards in its affection for Ivy, and his frantic gaze sought hers. It didn't take long for Ivy to spot him either, though it was clear to both Draco's that he wasn't who she sought, however, when her chocolate gaze landed on him eighteen year old Draco couldn't help but revel in the fact that her entire expression softened at the sight of him sat at the Slytherin Table, that she looked less lost and confused because of him. It was his younger self's turn to look baffled then, and Draco's frowned with confusion as she watched him somewhat beseechingly, then someone called out to Ivy from the Gryffindor Table and as she turned to face them Draco realised what this was.

The poison, Draco thought, his heart catching in his chest as he quickly sped up, dodging the spectral students and hurrying down the Great Hall, this was the day Weasley was poisoned by Draco's mead, he had realised, and Ivy was about to find out. His frantic gaze flicking between Ivy, who was quizzically approaching one of the Patril girls, and his past self, who was watching the scene before him with clear comprehension and fear written plainly across his face, and Draco remembered how he felt, he had been terrified in the instant, dreading that she might find out that it was his fault her friend was in danger but most of all, frightened for her and what she was about to learn.

"Draco?" questioned Pansy's shrill tones, audible even from this distance as she failed to get a response from Draco and Patril asked Ivy something that caused her to look deeply confused. Rounding the Hufflepuff Table Present Draco made his way towards the two girls just as Pavarti urgently whispered something to Ivy and the brunettes face crumpled in distress. Disappointed Draco skidded to a halt beside her, knowing there was nothing he could have done to soften the blow but wanting to be here this time, to know if Patril had been gentle about it.

"Ivy, are you okay?" the other girl asked worriedly as Ivy swayed visibly on her feet and paled, her brown eyes wide but unseeing as she looked back up at Patril, and if Draco hadn't known Ivy better or seen this before he might have thought she was going to faint, she looked that bad. Reaching pointlessly out for her Draco was actually surprised when memory Ivy turned heel without another word to anyone and sped desperately from the room, one hand pressed tightly to her lips. Draco went to follow her, as he wished he had done immediately on the day, however, when the concerned blond went to follow Ivy out into the Entrance Hall he crashed into an invisible barrier. Staggering backwards and clutching his nose, meeting with the first substantial thing since he'd entered the basin, Draco scowled out into the Entrance Hall murderously. Why couldn't he follow her? He demanded internally, well and truly ready to barrel right into the barrier again, just to see if he couldn't make it through this time, when a loud, earsplittingly shriek caused him to stop.

"Draco!" Pansy shrilled as the real Draco turned away from the barrier and sought out his past self Draco, "what are you doing? Sit back down." She demanded as Draco located himself, standing on his feet behind the Slytherin Table and staring out into the Entrance Hall after Ivy with a look of conflicting distress and pride, half his fellow Slytherin's were staring at him blatantly, thanks to Pansy's screaming. His past self ignored her though, and with a look of unwavering determination and desperation Draco sidestepped over the bench and took off at a brisk and somewhat agitated walk towards the doors. Hurry up! Draco urged himself emotively, well aware that a distraught Ivy was currently tearing her way through the corridors of Hogwarts and in need of him, go and catch her!

"Draco!" Pansy continued to screech to no avail, only succeeding in gaining half the hall's attention as Draco hurried onwards, reaching the doorway at a jog and rushing by his invisible past self with his teeth tightly clenched and his eyes burning. "Don't you dare!"

"She's heading for the Hospital Wing!" Draco shouted to as the younger blond looked around the Entrance Hall franticly, searching for her, even though he knew he couldn't hear himself, but Draco still couldn't get through the barrier, and he needed to feel like he was actually doing something, he needed to exhibit the intense concern that flooded him even a year after the event, even though he knew she'd be fine. It still hurt to see her upset; he cared about her too much to abide by that no matter what the situation.

It was as Draco was thinking this and as his past self disappeared up the staircase that the memory started to fade, vanishing in swirls of smoke spreading from the top of the stairs downwards and erasing the scene before him. It was only a matter of seconds before the clatter of the Great Hall, the screech of Pansy's echoing shouts and the ancient room before him all slipped away to be replaced by a new scene, or so Draco hoped, wrapped up as he was in what was going on and enjoying these memories far more than he probably should, he was in no mood to leave yet. Thankfully for Draco he didn't have to and the very next instant a new memory was building its self around him. Grey, stone, corridor walls sprang up on either side of him, stretching off into the distance until they met a corner, small windows built deep into the walls lined the corridor ahead of him and as Draco span to face the other wall a large, oaken door suddenly materialised. With the finishing touches, tapestries, candelabras and suits of armour, settling into the newly materialised hallway, Draco was inspecting the door and took several steps backwards as he realised he was standing outside the Hospital Wing. Was this a continuance of the last memory? Draco wondered, when he had chased after Ivy she had run up to the Hospital Wing before fleeing towards the alcove where he had found her later, was he going to see more of that memory? He asked himself though even now he could feel himself doubting it, none of the other memories had worked like that yet, in fact he hadn't been able to find a link between any of them other than that so far both he and Ivy were in every one.

"Try again tomorrow dear," the gentle and understanding voice of Madam Pomfrey said as the door to the Hospital Wing creaked open and Draco quickly staggered back a few more paces, the raven haired girl who followed the matron sulkily from the room the very last person he expected or wanted to see. "The boy needs his sleep and we can't disturb him."

"But he's been asleep every time I've visited him!" Pansy Parkinson whined as she stepped fully into the corridor and turned to complain to Madam Pomfrey. "Let me wake him up, he can sleep when I'm not here."

As Draco watched the unravelling scene the aging physician looked appalled by the very idea of what Pansy was suggesting. "I won't let you do that, Miss Parkinson, as I just said, Mr Malfoy needs his rest and I will not let you disturb him while he's sleeping. If you want to see him you are simply going to have to come back again tomorrow." She said sternly both thoroughly angering spoilt Pansy, who wasn't used to being told she couldn't do what she wanted, and confirming Draco's suspicions.

Any thoughts on seeing the end of the last memory had vanished the second Pansy emerged from the room, Draco didn't expect her to have been visiting Weasley, so clearly this was a different day that for some reason Ivy felt was important. However Madam Pomfrey's words did confirm what Draco was already thinking, that he was a patient in the Hospital Wing and with that understanding came another fresh and agonising wave of hope. Draco was only half listening as he looked up and down the corridor expectantly. He was in the Hospital Wing, undoubtedly because of that idiot Potter and his malicious spell and he'd been here a few days by the sounds of things. Pansy had just been turned out, a frequent even during the few days he spent in the Hospital Wing last year, but if he was right then Draco was due another visitor any second now. But where was she?

"…you just wait until I tell my Daddy about this, you'll be lucky if you still have your job tomorrow! Mark my words." Draco absentmindedly heard Pansy threaten, having missed half the conversation as he was too absorbed in searching for Ivy, however, no matter how many times his gaze flicked expectantly between the two ends of the corridor, his Ivy didn't round the corner. Draco frowned.

"Do not presume to threaten me, Miss Parkinson, my job is quite secure, I can assure you, while you might just be earning yourself a detention for your impertinence." Madam Pomfrey countered easily, her tone stern but bored, implying this wasn't the first time she and Pansy had had this conversation. That didn't surprise Draco, what did was the steady stream of disappointment trickling through him as the minutes passed by and he forced himself to consider that Ivy might not be coming, that she might not be in this memory. Scowling at his own stupidity and the desperation of his emotions Draco quickly turned away, his hard gaze fixed intently on the floor so that he could just see Pansy and Madam Pomfrey to his left. Wishing whatever needed to happen would just happen already, Draco watched out of the corner of his eye as Pansy stormed away like a moody child and listened as Madam Pomfrey muttered irritably under her breath, however, he still didn't lift his humiliated gaze from the floor. Not until the sound of someone's approaching footsteps drew his head up and hope ballooned in his chest.

Biting her bottom lip, turning it plump and red, in what looked almost like anxiety, a clearly torn and nervous Ivy made her way round the corner of the corridor to Draco's right, a determination shinning in her that Draco couldn't miss.

"Madam Pomfrey!" she called out as she gave up on trying to keep to a walk and releasing her blushing lip she jogged down the corridor.

"Miss Jones?" the matron asked at the sight of the young girl hurrying towards her, concern obvious in the older woman's voice, "whatever are you doing down here? I haven't seen you in weeks; don't tell me another one of your friends is ill?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Ivy answered her without hesitation as she slowed to a stop before Madam Pomfrey, her loose, mahogany hair swinging forwards over her shoulder and pausing in a thoughtful silence that had Draco's heart jump to his throat in a dreadful anticipation that he clung onto desperately, not caring how that made him seem. "It's Draco Malfoy, I was wondering if I could visit him?" she asked with wide, earnest eyes and something inside Draco broke, a hard, little shell that had been cold and dormant for so long burst open and flooded Draco's inside with the warm, satisfying feeling of pure happiness. Let people call him pathetic, he didn't care, she was here for him. He supposed that it ought not to have come as a surprise, he had been expecting it of course, but there was something about the look on her face, the concern he saw clearly written there, it was more than he could ever have hoped for.

Draco barely noticed the shock on Madam Pomfrey's face as she digested this information; he was too preoccupied with the pleading expression in Ivy's eyes until the matron spoke. "I'm sorry but I don't think you can, he's sleeping and he needs his rest." Draco didn't feel more than a flicker of rage, Ivy was going to get in, he knew that she was because he could remember her visiting him so he paid no mind to Madam Pomfrey; instead he watched the emotions playing across Ivy's face intently, gaging her reaction.

"That's fine," Ivy said and Draco might have been disappointed by that, had he not watched the way her shoulders slumped and her hopeful expression slipped somewhat at Madam Pomfrey's words, however, this was Ivy and she soon regained that determined flicker in her eyes, "but I just want to see that he's okay, I won't stay long or wake him up, I just want to see how he is."

Madam Pomfrey looked reluctant, but Draco's heart was already soaring, fluttering excitedly in his chest with anticipation for what was to come, he could sense her agreement, it was inevitable, who could say no to that face? He thought eyeing Ivy as her determined gaze beseeched Madam Pomfrey's and concern lit coloured her expression, had she really cared that much? Draco asked himself, a heady shot of optimism lifting him up and a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. Lost in the euphoria born of her concern, the sense of feeling loved and knowing that someone cared about you, he couldn't help but remember how good it had felt to see her by his bedside that day, even though he had fought back that feeling and had been trying to separate them so that she wouldn't get hurt, it had been unimaginably comforting to know she had wanted to see him.

"Okay," Madam Pomfrey agreed and Draco watched as a smile suddenly split across Ivy's face, lighting the glittering lamps behind her eyes and lifting her up onto her toes for a second, "but only if you don't disturb him."

"Thank you," Ivy said sincerely as Madam Pomfrey went to open the Hospital Wing doors and shot Ivy a knowing look that the relieved girl missed completely, "and I'll be quiet."

Her anxious expression back in place Ivy quickly followed Madam Pomfrey into the Hospital Wing, leaning forward with her anticipation and with her hands nervously clasped in front of her. Draco couldn't help but smile to himself as he went in after her, her concern for him, which he hadn't really thought about before, comforted him, it made him feel like he was right back here again, and for just a moment he forgot about the troubles waiting outside of this world of the past. No wonder she carries this with her, Draco thought as Madam Pomfrey led Ivy down the ward towards the bed where a year younger Draco was pretending to be asleep, he wished he could escape from everything like this whenever he needed to, and could understood the need for a distraction from the way things were now. Not all memories have to be painful, he observed to himself as Madam Pomfrey left Ivy alone at the foot of Draco's bed with a warning that she would return in five minutes, it just depends on which ones you choose to dwell on, and apparently Ivy, like him, was trying to look back on the good times as well as the bad, which surprised him immensely actually. Ivy usually only saw things as black and white, normally she'd be unable to see all the good times they had shared underneath all the bad. With the matron clicking her way back up the ward Draco watched as Ivy drifted closer to his bed, peering down anxiously at the boy laying there, scowling in a fake slumber. Draco could remember this day, it stuck out in his memory for a number of reasons, despite how it had started off miserably, Ivy's visit had soon turned things around even though they had bickered a bit and he'd tried to drive a wedge between them, the fact still remained that she'd been a warm, if chastising, ray of sunshine and the only person he had spoken to since he arrived.

Walking around the side of the bed Draco could hear Ivy exhale, she had clearly expected things to be worse than they were which wasn't surprising given the state Potter had left Draco in, however, despite her obvious relief she still looked troubled, her eyebrows were pinched and her expression concerned as she peered down at Draco from the foot of his bed. Following his gaze Draco caught sight of himself for the first time since he had entered the Hospital Wing, he hadn't looked away from Ivy so far, too interested in the emotions playing across her face, however, now that he looked at himself Draco understood Ivy's reaction. Had I really looked that bad? Draco thought, almost cringing as he stared down at himself, lying pale as the crisp sheets he slept under in the hospital bed, looking sickly and unwell in a way that was more than just the blood loss. There were dark, purple circles under Draco's eyes and he knew that his appearance was made worse by the many sleepless nights he had spent fixing the cabinet, one glance at Ivy's thoughtful expression and Draco knew that Ivy could tell there was something more going on. Had she always know? He wondered, remembering the Gryffindor girl's perchance for seeming to read his mind and seeing more in his expression and demeanour than he cared to reveal, she had always known him well, better than he had previously liked to admit. Wondering about this Draco watched himself pretend to sleep, remembering how annoyed he had felt to have an unwanted visitor and how he had been willing them to go, when Ivy walked carefully around the other side of the bed and looking down at him with her big brown eyes she reached out a hand towards his head, as though going to brush the stands of hair sprayed across his forehead away. She didn't though, looking aghast, as though she couldn't believe what she had been about to do, Ivy quickly withdrew her hand, pulling it close to her chest, and quickly looked away. Draco meanwhile, was once again enthralled, caught up in the tenderness of the almost motion he could only stare at her, maybe I was right, he thought as he remembered something he had thought three days ago when Voldemort forced him to relieve his moments with Ivy, maybe I'm not the only one whose been fighting these feelings a while.

Her expression clouding with an emotion Draco couldn't quite recognise, he watched as she regarded the empty vase on his bedside intently, then seeming to settle on something Ivy drew her wand and aimed it at the vase, with one determined look she cast a nonverbal spell and bright, yellow daffodils suddenly blossomed there. Ivy smiled; satisfied with her work and again Draco's surrendering heart gave a little jerk at this show of consideration. As Ivy backed up to admire the flowers Madam Pomfrey walked down the ward towards them.

"They're lovely," she observed and sending the supposedly sleeping Draco a small smile Ivy looked over her shoulder at the matron.

"How is he?" Ivy asked, trying not to disturb him, but even her softly spoken words, barely above a whisper in volume, caused a reaction in the young boy she was visiting so violent and instantaneous that the older Draco couldn't miss it. At the sound of her voice the Draco in the bed's eyes instantly shot open, stunned and no longer scowling he watched her back in disbelief as she spoke with Madam Pomfrey.

"Better," the matron said as she went about tidying the sheets of the bed opposite Draco's, "his wounds are closed and there's no scaring, but he's lost a lot of blood and needs to sleep."

"Okay, I'll leave soon." Ivy assured Madam Pomfrey and with her words Draco watched himself frown.

Finishing with the bed Madam Pomfrey shot Ivy a look that clearly said, 'I doubt it' before glancing in Draco's direction meaningfully, confused Ivy turned around, a slight frown in place, however it didn't last long. Not expecting to see Draco awake Ivy visibly jumped the second her eyes landed on Draco's suddenly alert gaze and raising her hand to her heart to illustrate her shock Ivy let her eyelids flutter closed, turned her head away, composed herself and looked back at Draco.

"Jeeze!" she exclaimed as she clutched Draco's bed stand for support and looked at him pointedly "Give me a heart attack next time." She said and for some inexplicable reason Draco saw a blush begin to work its way across her cheeks, she was embarrassed.

Looking confused and just a little bit smug, no doubt enjoying her reaction, Draco watched as his gaze flicked from Ivy, to Madam Pomfrey and the flowers in the vase beside his bed, questions clearly forming in his mind but Draco knew he was waiting for Madam Pomfrey to leave before he voiced them. However while he waited the boy in the bed regarded the bouquet, a curious expression in place and Draco remembered the odd mix of emotions seeing them had inspired, and it was under Draco's younger self's gaze that the long nosed flowers suddenly disappeared in a puff of swirling mist. The memory was changing, Draco noticed with some reluctance, turning quickly to get one last glance of Ivy's deepening blush before she and everything else vanished as well. The last of the old scene disappearing Draco stood where he was, his gaze still fixed on the spot where Ivy had been standing, when a large, gold trimmed frame emerged from the black mists of the memory in the very same spot. Draco watched as a round, middle aged woman in a pink dress materialised in the frame and the swirling shadows of times gone by swept outwards, using the portrait as its epicentre as it drew up the rest of the scene. When things finally settled Draco found himself standing in a vaguely familiar and short corridor of Hogwarts, along which the only thing of any real significance seemed to be the portrait of the big woman, or rather, the Fat Lady as she was better known. He was standing outside the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, Draco knew that for a fact as though he rarely had cause to venture this way every Slytherin knew where their tower was, for very sinister reasons, and Draco had walked up here with Ivy more than once. Very suddenly interested in the scene Draco's gaze alternated between the end of the corridor, beyond which he caught the occasional glimpse of a student meandering lazily past, and the portrait, the occupant of which did little but yawn and inspect the nails on her pudgy fingers. He knew that Ivy was going to emerge any second now, the other memories proved that she would, he just didn't know how or when, and as of yet couldn't place this memory. Fortunately he didn't have to wait long.

Was it possible that he felt her presence even before he saw her? Draco would have dismissed such a thought as ridiculous could he not even at that very moment feel the electricity shooting through the air that alerted him to her approach even though it was just a memory of her. If his gaze wasn't drawn upwards by nothing more than the tug of his heart, the crackle of those electric bolts and the invisible string that seemed to attach him to her, then he'd have thought himself pathetic. But that was exactly what he felt and blue gaze directed towards the end of the corridor Draco looked around just in time to see himself and Ivy round the corner and carry on towards the portrait hole. Unlike every other memory so far, Draco knew exactly what this one was the second he clapped eyes on himself, there was no denying the wretched and tormented look in his eyes, Draco remembered every painful second of this loathsome day, and this one was no exception. Scowling deeply Draco looked away from himself, hardly noticing the confused and worried from on Ivy's brow in his haste to get away the sight of himself, it was pitiable, and Draco didn't want to be reminded of this day. Draco knew, without needing to look at the flushed, rosy cheeks of the approaching pair, signally a day spent outside in the warm sun, or the windswept style of their hair to know that they were just returning from an afternoon in the grounds. Draco had spent a lot of time by the Black Lake with Ivy in those final weeks together at Hogwarts, despite the ever looming task he had to perform, he had selfishly wanted to spend more time with her and she hadn't seemed to mind that, though of course, she hadn't known everything then, even though Draco was sure she had suspected something. Sensing the couple come to a stop nearby Draco reluctantly glanced up at them, noticing the awkward and somewhat disappointed expression that now adorned Ivy's face, and the distant, ominous look in his own eyes.

Draco's younger self, battling with conflicting emotions and almost trembling with dread, cleared his throat "I'd best be going." He said in a level voice that didn't match his appearance at all.

"Yeah," Ivy agreed, her penetrating and quizzing gaze going from his hard expression to his quivering hands, looking reluctant and oddly fierce, before she quickly stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around Draco's waist, hugging him lightly.

The shock on the troubled, young blonde's face was obvious, his eyes were wide and his expression completely overtaken by surprise, he even lost his haunted look for a moment, stunned as he was. He soon regained his senses though pressing his cheek against the top of her head the Draco of last year returned Ivy's embrace with a fierce and desperate passion that was written clear as day across his face. Draco knew exactly what was going through his past self's mind, he could remember what seemed like the finality of the hug and the supposed knowledge that this would be the last time he would see or hold her, as that coming night Draco was going to let the Death Eaters into the school and try and kill Dumbledore. He could remember thinking that this one embrace wasn't going to be enough, that with every second more he held onto her the more he craved another and another, the more he craved other things that he and Ivy could never share as she'd never want to see him again after that day. It was supposed to be a goodbye, and it had been a painful one at that. Watching this, reliving the emotions, Draco's own arms began to ache, the space between them suddenly feeling empty and wrong, he longed for his own Ivy, currently locked up in his family cellar, to fill the gap and accept him like she had then, and for the first time in a long while, he had hope to believe that she would.

Unwilling to let go but knowing they had to, the pair slowly pulled apart, looking uncomfortable for only the briefest of seconds Ivy looked up at the man she had embraced with warmth in her eyes and said "I'll see you tomorrow then." She said it with such conviction, such firm belief that she would, that the younger Draco struggled to hide the effect her words had on him, when he knew that she wouldn't, that this was it.

Draco watched himself look away from her, scowling at the floor with a force that ought to have burned a hole right though it as the injustice of all this assaulted him and the younger boy chastised himself internally, for even contemplating telling her the truth, which was what Draco knew full well he had been considering doing at exactly that moment. He had wanted out, he had wanted to be with her and carry on as normal, and it hadn't been an unreasonable request but still he hadn't been allowed even that.

"Yeah," Draco said, his deeper meaning more obvious than any smart traitor ought to have allowed, but Draco hadn't cared, he wasn't dedicated any more, he didn't have a choice, he couldn't tell her the truth, not now, and he had hated that.

Regarding his harsh expression and confusing response hurt flickered in Ivy's expression for a moment, before the invisible Draco watched her master it, while his younger self was too busy lost in his own inner turmoil. "Bye then," she said, her voice so quiet and obviously wounded that the distressed, young boy couldn't help but look up at her.

Her expression was too much for her, regarding her confused pain with an agony of his own, though it was masked and only his older self could see it, Draco looked at her intently for a moment, as though he could say everything that needed to be said with the power of his gaze alone, and abruptly turned and strode away without another word. Startled Ivy's expression of bewilderment intensified before her eyelids slipped closed and she sucked in a deep, centring breath, when she opened her eyes she watched as a visibly distressed Draco disappeared around the corner, while the boy's future self regarded her intently, transfixed by her reactions. At the time he hadn't been able to bear the suddenly obvious regard with which she held him, her love had been too much, but now he revelled in it, was addicted to the heady emotions it inspired and didn't think he could ever get enough of it, and what was more he hated himself even more than ever before for hurting her so. With one last long look down the corridor Ivy turned her back on Draco and headed towards the portrait hold, looking tired.

"I wouldn't bother with him, dear," The Fat Lady advised gently as Ivy approached, leaving the following Draco desperate to hear her response "he's nothing but trouble."

"I wish I could," Ivy sighed, a wistful but saddened look in place and waves of euphoric shock rolled through Draco at the words, an admission of her own feelings. This time, when the memory started to dissolve Draco cried out.

"No!" He shouted as the black mists claimed Ivy with one grand swirl and everything else soon vanished from sight. No, he thought desperately, I want to see more, I want to see what else she has to say, what she does next, that can't be it! But it was, and with those pivotal words not only this memory, but the entire string of them came to an end, leaving Draco hungry and frantic for more, even though a steadily building joy was taking over him as Ivy's lovelorn expression imprinted itself in his mind.

Landing back in the office and the present with a thud he hardly felt, Draco stared blankly ahead while his stunned brain tried to make sense of what he had just seen. He had spent so long, months, maybe even years, schooling himself to believe that Ivy didn't care for him, that she hated him and that there wasn't a chance of there ever being anything between them again. But now that formerly cast iron belief, the one that he'd been so sure of since last June, had been turned firmly on its head, the world had shifted, reality changed, things that had once seemed impossible were now within reach.

No amount of pessimism or self persecution could stop these thoughts from turning over in Draco's mind. Ivy's face, alight with different passions, pinched with deep concern and staring in emotive confusion was etched firmly in his brain, no one could look like that, could care so obviously about someone like she had and push it aside so easily. There was no denying that Draco's betrayal had been great, had been worthy of her hatred, but such emotion couldn't be wiped away just like that. Draco knew first hand that it didn't work like that, he couldn't stop himself from caring as he did, this agonising, exquisite, inconvenient love he felt wouldn't go no matter what he did and surely it was the same for her. And Ivy had cared, he could see that now, could admit it to himself and if these memories had taught him one thing it was that she still did. She had to; why else would she carry them around with her? Draco had thought earlier that she might be using them as a reminder, to make sure she didn't forget that she couldn't trust him, but even then, why would she need a reminder of that if she wasn't battling with feelings entirely the opposite of what she ought to have?

She still cares about me, Draco thought in numb disbelief as his heart pounded unusually in his chest and he let out his breath in a kind of stunned laugh, unable to stop the smile that blossomed on his lips and unwilling to even try. Beaming with the euphoria of renewed hope he blinked and looked around him, an unnerving weight of realisation dawning on him as he did. What the Hell am I doing? He asked himself in disbelief. I shouldn't be here. Moving quickly Draco snatched the ornate vial from the side table and drew the memories from the basin with his wand as the book had instructed, the memories securely inside the vial Draco reluctantly flicked the lid shut. He had to go, the thought dominated his mind and pushed him onwards, he needed to get out of here, there wasn't a second to lose and with that in mind Draco rushed from the room without a backwards glance. In his urgency, Draco missed the satisfied expression on the former headmasters face, no longer snoozing in his frame behind the desk.

No more waiting, Draco decided as he sprinted down the spiral staircase and passed the gargoyle, he'd been an idiot to leave her alone even that long. Ivy was in grave danger, she couldn't be left in Malfoy Manor a second longer and he was going to get her out of there today, whatever the cost. Ideas, which had been spitefully absent these past few days, buzzed around in Draco's head with a frantic perseverance and he decided to make the most of what he had at his disposal. Bellatrix was guarding the cellar door like a rabid dog, he'd never get Ivy past her without an airtight alibi, but mercifully his brain was concocting one. Snape. He'd used the headmaster as his excuse to get out of the house and so he would use him again now. If Draco told his family that the reason Snape had summoned him out to his office in the first place was because the Dark Lord had a new job for him, that Voldemort wanted Draco to take Ivy to the school so that Snape could administer some Veritaserum and Voldemort could question her further, they would have no choice but to let him take her. They'd kick up a fuss, doubtless they would, Bellatrix especially as she no longer trusted Draco, but he'd throw in some stuff about how the Dark Lord was still unsure of the family's usefulness and capability to hold Ivy captive and how Draco wanted to prove himself to them and redeem himself in the Dark Lord's eyes, they'd soon give in. His family wouldn't want to chance angering the Dark Lord again; Draco knew that and was going to use it as far as he could. After Draco convinced his family of his sincerity the task should be an easy one, once he got Ivy beyond the gates he would let her overpower him and escape, he would surely have consequences to face but at least she would escape and there was a chance of Draco being able to get away with it. It was so simple, so perfect, he ought to have thought of it days ago but he knew it was his new thread of hope that had revitalised his efforts and restored his faith.

Smart shoes clicking loudly on the flagstone floor Draco jumped the last few steps of the Grand Staircase and tore thought the Entrance Hall, the sumptuous scent of Amortentia drifting sweetly in the air around him. But there was an determination in him now that was twice as powerful as the one that had brought him here in the first place, there was a feeling, a niggling, steadily building one he couldn't get rid of that told him to be quick, that he had to get to her now. So, still riding high on his renewed hopes and propelled along by his disconcerting fear, Draco sprinted across the grounds towards the gates, just as he had all those months ago on that fateful night, only this time he was running towards Ivy and not away from her.

"Open the gates!" he bellowed as he approached the boar toped gateway and this time the weedy Death Eaters guarding them didn't hesitate, the gates swung open just as Draco reached them.

Not slowing his pace in the slightest and sliding on the worn, muddy path Draco ignored the inquiries of his fellows and rushed on, skidding to a halt a good distance away from them and promptly turning on the spot, thoughts of Ivy and his home filling his mind. Draco disaparated instantly, so desperate to put his plan into action and so lost in the emotions of the memory that he didn't notice the tall, hook nosed man who appeared on the road just a few paces away from him, and who watched him go with a grim and knowing expression.

**Author note: well, that took me longer than I would have liked, sorry guys, I known exactly what the blame the delay on though, badly enough, and that would be my current obsession with the book series "the secret history of the pink carnation" and planning for the fic this inspired (by the way, I'll run that by you all when I've finished planning, it's another Harry Potter fic that I'd like to start after I've finished 'Losing Sight"). So yeah, I'm really sorry and hopefully this wasn't as bad as it felt it was when I wrote it, lol, can you tell my brain is shutting down for today?**

**Review reply to FerFrie D**

**I'm glad you liked it, lol, yup, a Hell-daughter just about sums Bellatrix up. Hope you enjoyed this. X**


	23. Liberation

**Author note: No, I assure you I'm feeling quite well, two updates in less than a week though! You must think something is up with me! Haha, yeah, anyway, I really enjoyed writing this chapter (hence the speedy post) and I hope that you do too.**

**Eeeke, a POV shift, I did warn of this to a few people, hope you like it.**

**Chapter twenty-three: Liberation**

**Harry**

Harry Potter was restless, their silence and inactivity seemed stifling in the small guest room where he and Hermione sat, the tapping of his nails against the side table, the clunk of the clock ticking loudly on the wall and the scratching of Hermione's quill as she scribbled her plans, the only sounds in the room. It was three days since they had fled from Malfoy Manor, three days since Ivy had been left behind, and Harry was quietly going insane. It was all his fault, he thought wretchedly, he had let go of her hand, he had said Voldemort's name even though Ron had warned him not to, and he was the reason she was out here in the first place and not safely hidden away with her family. She wouldn't be in trouble right now if it wasn't for him and it tore him to pieces. He had known this would happen! He exclaimed internally, the only sign of his growing torment the quickening of his fingers drumming against the wood, this was why he hadn't wanted them to come, he knew that something bad would happen to them, that he would lose one of the most important people in his life and he couldn't deal with that, he couldn't lose anyone else. He wouldn't lose anyone else, Harry thought sternly with the conviction and determination that had been coursing through his veins ever since he buried Dobby three days ago, everything was clear to him now, he knew the path he had to take and knew it didn't involve obsessing over the Deathly Hallows; they weren't what he was supposed to find. No, Harry knew exactly what he had to do now and where they went from here, but first they had to get Ivy back.

Ivy was trapped, captured and held hostage at Malfoy Manor where Voldemort and the psychotically twisted Bellatrix could be doing Merlin knew what to her. His friend Ivy, one of the few people that had stood by his side over the years, and he was letting that happen to her. Harry bet Voldemort was laughing now, yes he had lost Harry but he had gotten the next best thing, Ivy Jones, the Seer who was part of Harry's inner circle, one of the girls who knew him best of all, and the very person who through a miss timed vision or some legilimency could show Voldemort Harry's exact location, not to mention reveal all their future plans, putting everyone in danger. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Voldemort now had another chance to capture Harry and the others, he would know there was no way they could just leave her there, that they would do everything in their power to get her back, no matter how dangerous it was and he was right. They were playing into Voldemort's hands but there was nothing else they could do.

Focusing intently on the shiny wooden table top Harry shuddered to think what Ivy was going through now, his strong, fiery friend had always been so tough, but Harry doubted even she could handle what Voldemort would do to her. However it was more than that, as Hermione had pointed out, Ivy was being tortured not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too. Voldemort and the others might not know it, but holding Ivy in Malfoy Manor, the home of Draco Malfoy, the slimy traitor who she had once held strong feelings for until he betrayed her trust and became a Death Eater, would be a kind of agony all of its own. Which was why they were frantically trying to get her out, they couldn't just leave her there even though they were sure she would tell them to, she needed them and they'd do everything in their power to save her. Progress was excruciatingly slow though. Even though there was no doubt in Harry's mind that they would get her out, three days was three days longer than he had wanted to leave her there. Harry wasn't recklessly stupid, he knew they couldn't barrel in there without a plan, that would only get them all killed and captured, but it cut him up to know his friend was in danger right this second and that as of yet they couldn't do anything.

"Harry," Hermione said gently but sternly from where she sat on one of the double beds, a vast array of books and parchment spread out on the sheets before her "can you stop that please?" she asked, nodding at the hand he was still drumming on the wood.

"Sorry, Hermione." He apologised pulling his hand away from the table and jumping to his feet instead, Hermione watched him with a tired and anxious expression in place as he paced about the room, however after a few circuits she left him to his coping method and returned to her own. In the wake of Ivy's capture each of the three friends had reacted differently, Harry, filled with determination and useless energy, paced, fidgeted and tried to help wherever he could. Hermione planned, staying up late into the night the scrawl increasingly desperate plans even though she was supposed to be resting from her own ordeal at Malfoy Manor. However, like Harry, Hermione couldn't just sit idly by and her every effort went into concocting the perfect plan to help Ivy escape and she would not let the three of them head out until it was completely flawless. A point which frustrated the protective boys endlessly, but Harry had to admit that he could see the logic in it, there was no point them rushing off to save Ivy only to be captured themselves, however that didn't make waiting any easier.

Keeping as quiet as possible, so as not to distract Hermione, Harry carried on pacing about the room, running his hands through his already dishevelled black hair and peering out the window expectantly, the sea stretching out from behind the cliffs was as restless and troubled as he. He didn't stay still for any length of time, making his way from the window of the spare room to the door over and over again Harry didn't pause until an intent scan of outside brought the small mound and headstone of Dobby's grave into view. Stopping Harry stared out the window, feeling the heart-wrenching prangs of another lost friend which only strengthened his resolve and made him all the more desperate to get going. Not another, he thought again, Voldemort had taken enough people from him, both directly and indirectly, and he wouldn't claim another. It was as he was thinking this, his hands balled into steady fists by his sides and a look of resolution on his face, that Harry heard the front door go. The bang echoed through the house, shuddering the walls and jolting the pair in the room above from their own thoughts. Hermione stopped writing, her quill dropping ink splodges on the parchment where it hovered as she and Harry shared a look. Frantic footsteps followed the bang, making their way through the cottage and towards the staircase, frightened questions sounded from bellow, the other inhabitants asking what was wrong, but the only response was the pounding of feet on the staircase, as someone took to them two at a time. Thudding along the landing they neared the spare room and Harry and Hermione looked expectantly towards the door as it burst open, revealing a panting, red-faced Ron, his ginger hair a windswept mess around his sweaty forehead.

"We need to go," he announced to the stunned pair as he rushed into the room "we need to go now!"

"Why?" Harry asked both eagerly and tentatively "what's happened?"

"Malfoy," Ron panted as he raced forwards, pulling his rucksack off his back and snatching up Hermione's beaded bag "he's left the Manor," he told them, thrusting his hand deep into the bag and pulling out a handful of potions and trick sweets and Weasley products, before quickly stuffing them into his own, replenishing his supplies "we need to go now, while there's one less of them!" Harry's heart leapt at this news and he started forwards the grab his own rucksack, however Hermione looked unsure.

"But where has he gone?" she asked Ron as Harry also started to prepare, thrilled to finally have a cause to act and ready to rush right out the door.

"I don't know," Ron said tensely, clearly not caring about the why's and how's and just wanting to get Ivy back, "does it matter? We need to go."

"Yes," Hermione said adamantly "yes it matters Ron, we need to know these things, we don't have a plan and it's dangerous!"

"We don't need a plan, Hermione; you've been planning for days you've got to have something!" Ron said and Harry stopped in the act of opening his rucksack, the cloud of excitement clearing and beginning to see holes in this course of action.

"None that I'm happy with!" Hermione exclaimed regretfully "and I don't want anyone to get hurt. Tell me what you saw, what happened?"

Zipping his bag up agitatedly Ron sighed "I was standing guard at the bottom of the drive and I saw Malfoy come out, he was on his own and he just walked to the gates and disapparated, that was about ten minutes ago."

"And you don't know how long he's going to be?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"No," Ron said in irritable impatience "Hermione, I didn't stop to ask him."

"You think it's a trick?" Harry asked, noting the troubled expression on Hermione's face. "To lure us inside?"

"It's possible," Hermione said though the wheels in her mind were clearly still turning "but they don't know we're watching them, so they wouldn't know we'd see it, unless maybe they've glimpsed one of you?"

"I've been under the cloak every time," Harry said, his mind casting back to just a few short hours ago when he had been standing outside the Manor in the midday sun, looking for anything, any sign of activity that might help them plan or tell them what was happening to Ivy. They had maintained a constant visual for two days now, Ron and Harry taking alternating four hour shifts watching the house, as Hermione was too ill for either of them to let her go. No, Harry had worn the cloak every time and kept to the shadows and the sides as best as he could; unless he had triggered a spell that alerted the household to potential intruders they couldn't have known he was out there.

"Same," Ron said tiredly "come on Hermione, they don't know we're there."

"But they expect we'll do something," Hermione insisted "we can't just go charging in, even if there is one less to deal with it doesn't matter, there's still Malfoy and his wife and B…Bellatrix," Hermione said, stumbling over the name of her attacker and Ron and Harry shared concerned looks as she undoubtedly remembered the horrible events of the other day, however, Hermione soon pressed on "and we don't even know what kind of extra security they have in place for us."

"There won't be any," Ron said in a less agitated tone, clearly still worried about Hermione "you said they were trying to get us inside, if they want us to sneak in there won't be anyone there to try and stop us."

"They'll be there," Harry said somewhat gravely as he thought about it "just waiting for the right moment or until we try to leave."

"Exactly," Hermione said, gesturing to Harry "that's what I mean; it's just not safe for us to go yet. But what about the sentry, the Death Eater you both said was stationed outside?"

"He's still there," Ron told her, referring to the lone Death Eater that had been standing in the shadows outside Malfoy Manor these past few days, the only change the boys had noticed.

"Did Malfoy talk to him?" Hermione asked as she searched for the sheet of parchment with notes on the sentry written on it.

"No," Ron said, his expression regaining its irritation "I don't think he even saw him there, the Death Eater watched him go but that was it. Look, we're wasting time, we need to go."

"Ron, listen to me, I want to get her back as much as you two do but we've got to be smart about this, otherwise what good is our even trying? We can't go now, this doesn't make it safe." Hermione said imploringly as Ron grew increasingly impatient and threw his rucksack back onto his shoulders.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing," Harry said, his voice deep and sombre with thought as Hermione's mouth gaped open and Ron shot her a 'see, I told you' look, "but we can't go yet." He added and it was Ron's turn to look put out "I'm not going to watch either one of you be hurt or captured too, we can't rely on Malfoy's departure being of any use to us and Hermione's right, it isn't safe to just go barrelling in. We're going to act though, tonight at the latest, Ivy isn't going to stay there another day." He said adamantly as he looked over at the others, seeing them both grudgingly agreeing with him.

"Tonight," Ron confirmed with a scowl and a nod as he took off his bag and dropped it to the floor.

"Fine," Hermione agreed looking between the two boys and then back to the parchment in front of her "I'd better get to work then."

"And I'll go and keep watch;" Harry said gripping his rucksack before turning to Ron "it was almost my turn anyway."

"Here you go, mate," Ron said as he handed Harry the Invisibility Cloak "keep an eye out for Malfoy."

"And let us know when he gets back." Hermione said from behind a curtain of bushy hair as she bent over to write.

Harry told them that he would let them know the second he saw the bleached blond ferret and quickly headed downstairs, dodging probing questions and making assurances that everything was fine to the others as he went. Stepping out of the cottage, the sea breeze ruffling his hair and the smell of salt water thick around him, he quickly crossed the garden and as soon as he was beyond their walls he threw on his cloak and apparated. When the tension let up he was standing on the street outside the big, ornate gates of the manor, an invisible and determined observer. Clocking the location of the Death Eater sentry, who was crouched in the mouth of an alleyway across the road, Harry took his usual position by a lamppost on the same side of the street as the Death Eater, being sure to keep both him and the manor in his sights all the time. Folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the cold metal Harry fixed his gaze upon the house, a thousand thoughts of his friend's suffering rushing through his head, and waited.

**Ivy**

With Bellatrix's talon like claws fisted in my hair, I staggered down the corridor. Gritting my teeth and scowling I brought my own hands up to try and detangle her grip and dug my heels into the plush carpet, refusing to budge, but when my manic captor's bony knee rammed into my back, causing my breath to hiss out my nose and my body to arch painfully, I was forced onwards. A smart, rational person might have though it wiser not to fight, someone else might have reasoned that if I didn't hurt her or struggle then Bellatrix might not hurt me so badly or might show mercy, but I knew better than that. I had seen that crazed look of hatred in her eyes before, I had heard more stories than enough about the psychosis of Bellatrix Lestrange, and I knew that she had already made her mind up; that nothing I did now would make any difference. She would kill me, if that was what she wanted to do, and the sickening look on her face told even the most armature facial expression analyst that was a distinct possibility. And oddly enough, I wasn't in a mood to take being murdered lightly.

"Get. Off. Me." I hissed, pulling stands of hair out as I struggled against Bellatrix and she tugged harder against my scalp, however her malicious laughter was her only response as she continued to push me forwards.

Furious indignation rushing through me, well and truly tiered of being shoved around, tied up, cursed and generally treated like crap, I pulled myself to a firm and ridged stop. Locking all my joints in place and as a surprised Bellatrix jerked to a stop behind me I quickly rammed my free arm into her stomach, hearing the expel of air that told me I'd hit my target I pulled my other arm out of her grip, feeling her pointed nails scrapping down my skin as did so. I didn't care. Free but for my hair I started desperately forwards, trying to brake her grip, however Bellatrix's talons only tightened and pissed off herself now the sadistic cow abruptly yanked me downwards by my hair, forcing me to bend my knees and exclaim in livid complaint as my back and scalp throbbed.

"Silly little girl," Bellatrix cooed in my ear with an edge of menacing darkness that only caused my scowl to deepen "thinking she can beat me."

"I don't think it," I started to say from where she held me still, with my knees bent at ninety degree angles and agony rippling through me, however Bellatrix cut across me before I could finish my murmured goad.

"No, you don't," she said, pushing me forwards without letting me get up first, so I had to stumble on in an indignant crouch "you should have known better than to mess with this family."

"You'd think that," I managed to get past my gritted teeth "but here I am."

"Not for much longer," Bellatrix all but giggled before abruptly yanking me upwards, causing my head to snap backwards and my body to ach painfully, as I tried to regain my balance she released my arm, threw open the door to the drawing room, and chucked me inside, releasing my hair and causing me to stagger and trip to the floor.

Landing in the drawing room with a jarring thud I clenched my jaw as my hair fell forward and veiled my face, I didn't hide behind it through and knocking my fringe from my eyes with an irate shake of the head I looked up defiantly to see Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy standing side by side before me. I couldn't see Draco or Voldemort, but there was still a chance they were there and I didn't want to contemplate that possibility too much. Draco's impassive face as I was tortured within an inch of my life was already firmly branded in my mind. So, clinging to whatever gall I still had left, I fixed my most adamant and disrespectful face in place and pushed myself up onto my knees, I was about to get to my feet when a silent spell shot from behind me hit me with the force of a lorry, knocking the wind out of me and pinning me back to the floor.

"Stay down," Bellatrix commanded as though I were a dog and since I had nothing to lose I would have shot back something twice as insultive at her, had I been able to draw breath to speak.

"Bella," Narcissa warned from above me in a way that I was sure held no concern for my safety and hands pressed flat against the floor I managed to fight Bellatrix's spell long enough to pull my face from the carpet and look up to see both Narcissa and her husband looking down on me with the upmost contempt, like I was an overgrown insect scuttling about their drawing room and not a young woman fighting for her life. If only you knew, I couldn't help but think spitefully, all those times I'd spent with Draco, the kisses, it didn't matter if they were faked and he was using me, I bet it'd be a smack to your face to know what we did.

"We're doing this my way, Cissy," Bellatrix said as Narcissa's gaze locked with mine, her haughty disgust meeting my open contempt, and I could see revulsion there that was much more personal than just my blood status. Maybe she did know.

"The Dark Lord wants her alive." Lucius cautioned his sister-in-law who, from where I lay fuming and terrified on the floor, appeared to be paying no attention to him as she slowly circled me, an alarming look in her eyes and her borrowed wand drawn.

"What do you know?" Bellatrix asked me, not even bothering to hide her impatience or the fact that she'd much sooner just torture me, that was unnerving clear on her face. Gesturing quickly with her wand Bellatrix lifted the spell that pinned me to the floor, presumably so that I could answer her and scowling with fear but unshakeable determination I took a deep breath.

"That our world is in ruins," I managed to gasp out before Bellatrix made a slashing movement through the air with her wand and blinding pain cut across my back. I winced, it wasn't the Cruciatus Curse but it hurt like the cut of a knife, stinging across my back and causing my spine to bend in agony as my hand shot out to search for the gash my body thought there ought to be. But there wasn't one.

"What have you Seen?" Bellatrix continued, her dark eyes showing no annoyance, no anger at my words, in fact she seemed to be enjoying herself. I'll have to try harder then, I thought, she was going to kill me anyway, I knew it as well as I knew my own name that that was her reason for bringing me up here, I might as well say what I wanted to, it wouldn't make a difference, except maybe to the length of my suffering.

"A bastard with a Hitler complex." I said bitingly, propping myself up and trying to raise myself into a more dignified position however with a flash that revealed I had touched a nerve by insulting her precious Dark Lord, Bellatrix stuck again. This time the spell hit my chest, no more prepared for it than I had been the last time I hissed in pain and dropped back to the floor as a throbbing slash shot across my chest and seemed to burn.

"Where is Potter?" She continued to question, her voice notably tighter and harsher and as I lifted my head up once again I caught Narcissa and Lucius sharing a look, though I doubted it would do me much good.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I taunted, beyond caring now, I'd been stuck in here for Merlin only knew how long alone, I'd barely eaten, my brain wouldn't focus as it was, my eyes saw in tunnel vision and all I could think about was my friends and the pain Bellatrix was inflicting, I couldn't bring myself to give a crap about what happened next.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix exclaimed, finally having enough of me and giving into the inevitable, but just because I knew it was coming didn't make it hurt any less.

In my half delirious state the pain consumed me, feeling like it was cutting and slicing and burning every inch of flesh and tissue that it could get at, both inside and out of me, I bit down hard on my lip to keep in a scream, pushing down until the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth and not even stopping then. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction, no matter how much it hurt, and God did it hurt. I don't know how much time passed as I writhed on the floor, agony coursing through a body that wasn't sure how much more it could take and pushing me almost to the edge of consciousness once more but I refused to go, I refused to succumb, I would be strong. The pain built and just like in my vision I had to press my hands to my lips to keep myself from crying out, God, I fumed internally, Bellatrix really did put everything she had into these curses didn't she? Curled up in a tight ball once again I pressed more forehead against the carpet and held myself tightly as I tried to master the pain, to push it aside and deal with it, but it was impossible, it was physical suffering the likes of which there was no compare and trembling with the effort I could only look up at Bellatrix, my gleeful attacker, who watched my torment as though it was a highly amusing romcom. Ha! I thought half hysterically as I glowered up at the exulting Bellatrix, talk about irony.

Bellatrix's grin widened and for a second I thought she was going to lift the spell, if only to prolong my suffering and torment me in a different way, but no, instead she turned the force of her spell up tenfold and I buckled under the weight of searing agony. Muted cries bubbling at my lips, tears stinging in my tightly scrunched eyes; I pressed my face into the carpet just willing it to end, terrified though I was I didn't want to feel this anymore, I wanted it to be over.

"You will do as I say, Mudblood," Bellatrix told me joyfully, her voice sounding a thousand miles away, lost as I was in my own suffering and seeing nothing but darkness. "You will do as I say and then I will kill you." The pain carried on, I thought this torment would be never ending, just Bellatrix standing there for all eternity causing me this anguish and mocking me, I knew she'd never likely tire of it, but just when I felt myself start to drift, when the pain finally became too much for my long suffering self, it stopped.

Exhausted, drained and battered in every way I collapsed on the floor panting, battling to open my eyes but finding they didn't want to, that they just wanted to go to sleep and abandon everything, but I couldn't, I was laying unarmed on the Malfoy's floor, at the non-existent mercy of Bellatrix and her family, I couldn't just give in and sleep. Shaking from head to toe but fixing a defiant face in place that said that I damn well wasn't going to show it, I pushed myself up on wobbling hands and looked up at them all watching me, Lucius gazing downwards coldly, Narcissa scrutinising and Bellatrix taunting.

"Did that hurt little girl?" she asked in a baby voice that had my already boiled blood bubbling almost over, she would get hers, I thought lividly, by God she would get hers! However, these angry thoughts still echoing in my mind a serene calm seemed to trickle into me, slowly soothing my furious senses. It was a bizarre sensation and it alarmed me until I forgot how to care.

"Beware of a mothers love," I said through gritted teeth, my voice coming out cool and calm, the words forming on their own accord and shocking me. What the Hell? Those weren't my words, I hadn't intended to say them, they had completely bypassed my brain and gone straight to my mouth, and despite that, I felt a strange sense of rightness and truth about them. I believed these words.

Bellatrix's expression darkened and the mirth vanished from her eyes "What did you say?" she demanded harshly and I stared at her insolently for a moment, not having clue what I had even meant and trying to brush it off a gibberish sprouted from an exhausted mind, though I felt that it was anything but.

At first I didn't say anything, content to just let her mull over what I had randomly said and using the pause in my torture to try and rally what remained of my strength and rational mind, there was an opening here, a chance to be taken, I knew it and I had to be ready for it. However, whatever had possessed me to speak in the first place took over again, and even though I was conscious to every word I spoke and sense the profound truth in them, I hadn't a clue where they were coming from.

"Like him," I found myself saying in a cool, poignant and level voice, the way in which I hissed the last word leaving no doubt that the 'him' I was talking about was Voldemort, "you will be beaten by what you don't understand."

Bellatrix's gaze narrowed as she scowled at me, clearly no longer in the mood for playing, and I felt a chill like an ice cube drop into my stomach, that look didn't bode well. Shooting an oddly suspicious look at her stunned sister, who was regarding me like I'd just sprouted Greek, Bellatrix turned her wand on me before I had the time to so much a blink. "Crucio!" she snarled and pain rocketed through my body again, crippling me and bringing a whimper to my lips that I fought and lost the battle to restrain. Bellatrix wasn't messing around anymore, this was serious now and the force of her spell reflected that, I had never felt anything like this before, searing pain, like flames lapping at my skin, and an agony assaulting me that felt like someone was stretching my bones out on a medieval rack, I wanted to scream, but I'd be damned if I would.

"How dare you talk to me like that?" I heard Bellatrix screech from somewhere suddenly distant, no, no, I thought in fear, anger and desperation as I felt myself losing my grip on reality, the dark expanse of unconsciousness growing ever closer as the pain encased me. Not again, not now. I fought it, resisting with everything I had, but I had already sunk back to the floor, my eyes screwed tightly shut, and my waning will power couldn't see the point in clinging on any more, but I made it, just for a second longer. "You filthy Mudblood!"

I could hardly hear her now, I felt lightheaded even in my agony and everything seemed like it was starting to go numb, making it even harder to remember why I had to cling to the pain of consciousness and not give into the release of oblivion. So I found something else to hold onto. Banging, I could hear banging; I thought dreamily as the new sound reached my ears, drawing ever closer, no, it was less like banging and more like thudding, like footsteps, fast, irregular footsteps. Great, I thought with half-hearted sarcasm born of delirium, more company. Then, before another word could form in my clouded brain the drawing room door burst open behind me, banging loudly against the wall with the force of it, Bellatrix didn't pause in her torture, not immediately, not until a fierce, familiar and horrified voice bellowed,

"Expelliarmus!"

And suddenly my pain was lifted, it all stopped abruptly and as I lay on the floor, trying to regain the full use of my senses, I heard Narcissa exclaim "Draco!" in a scandalised way that instantly unfogged my muddled brain and caused my eyes the fly open in shock, just in time to see a highly polished dress shoe come to rest by the side of my head, oh God.

"What is going on here?" Draco's livid voice demanded and my heart beating overtime in my chest I tried to make sense of things, well aware of my precarious position and the cunning part of my brain already seeing an opportunity. But there was something else, a hope that sparked inside of me at Draco's sudden appearance and I desperately wanted to know what he was doing, why he was here and just to stay with him. It was frightening. However, curiosity warred with logic and for once for latter won.

"I told you!" Bellatrix cried both accusingly and triumphantly "I said he-"

"The Dark Lord," Draco roared, cutting across his aunt with probably more force and passion than I had ever heard him speak with, it had my traitorous heart fluttering in my chest until I re-caged the mad bird. Peeking up as slyly as I could I caught sight of Draco, looking up the length of his leg and glimpsing a halo (my brain really must be addled) of pale blond hair and a enraged expression. However I quickly looked away, as images such as that did little for my resolve and now wasn't the time to be ogling loathed former friends. But I needed a bigger distraction; I needed something to happen or him to move so that the attention was drawn away from me. "Said that she is to be kept, ALIVE, what part of that didn't you understand?"

I didn't need to be looking at her to know Bellatrix bristled at that.

"Insolent boy!" she exclaimed furiously "How dare you speak to me that way? You who know nothing of loyalty or pride! I am carrying out the Dark Lords orders!"

"By murdering her?" Draco asked in a fury "I don t recall that part of the plan being mentioned, you are not to hurt the Seer, Bellatrix, those were our orders!" Draco growled and from my position pretending to have collapsed on the floor I watched him move so that he was standing right in front of me, the oddest of twinges playing with my heart even though I knew I was being ridiculous, now wasn't the time to be acting the besotted woman, and he had already said his only concern was Voldemort.

I shifted, as subtly as I could so that I could peer through Draco's firmly planted legs, however, no sooner had I done that than I saw the lower half (as much as I could see from this point) of Bellatrix rushing towards Narcissa, there was a cry of protest from the blonde but it was overpowered by Bellatrix's own shout of rage. I didn't see anything else, I knew better than to wait, while Bellatrix and Narcissa were struggling I turned as quickly as I dared and rushed to my feet, keeping low though it did me no good and starting for the door.

"Bella, no!" Narcissa cried in genuine horror as I spotted Bellatrix's discarded wand lying on the floor by the door.

"Jones!" Lucius Malfoy warned, doubtlessly starting towards me however what happened next stopped him.

"Expelliarmus!" Bellatrix shrieked and there was a masculine grunt of outrage and something flew over my head and landed on the floor by the first wand.

"Impediemta!" Came Lucius' cry and in amongst this madness I dropped to the floor, throwing myself down to avoid the spell and landing with a painful thud on the floor, there was a crash as the spell hit something and it smashed but I didn't care, this was my chance and I wasn't going to let it pass. Opening my eyes after the force of the fall I spotted the two wands lying discarded right before my nose, I hastily snatched one up but froze, noticing a patterned, silver vial lying on the floor between the wands. Shock jolted through me and my blood ran cold. The vial, my vial, the one Dumbledore had given me! But how, I hadn't even noticed it was gone? Sending a frighteningly confused glance over my shoulder I saw Lucius starting towards me and the others breaking off from their own argument to do the same, and I knew I didn't have the time to question this.

Heart pounding I grabbed the vial and stumbled to my unsteady feet, pushing myself forwards as fast as I could go and racing towards the door, it was tantalisingly close and still wide open from Draco's entrance, but two of my pursuers had wands and they weren't far behind me. Throwing everything I had into it I raced for the door, my teeth gritted with determination and my arms swinging with effort, I was getting out of here. Making it through the door and dodging franticly shot spells I didn't stop, I kept on running down the corridor like Voldemort himself was chasing me, but a crack echoed ominously from behind me and I skidded to a terrified stop and turned to source the sound. The sight that greeted me through the drawing room door made me tremble with fear, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Lucius and Draco could all be seen sprinting for the door, Bellatrix and Lucius shooting increasingly desperate spells of a lethal looking nature. However, none had them had caused the crack. Standing behind the door, hidden from the others by the thick oaken wood, was Kidda, a grave and serious expression in place as she pressed her tiny hands against the door and quickly pushed it shut, a lock slid into place with a click of her fingers and the frightened looking elf turned to look at me.

"Run, Miss Ivy, run!" Kidda urged earnestly with wide worried eyes.

"Thank you." I said with more sincere gratitude than I had ever felt in my life, however, I couldn't say anything else as at that moment the shouting Malfoy family collided with the locked door, bangs and cried spells echoing from behind the wood, I had no idea what kind of spell Kidda had used to lock the door and didn't know how long it would hold. The elf didn't seem to think it would last long, as with one more panicked glance in my direction she vanished with a loud crack, and with the shouting behind the door growing every louder I needed no more persuading.

With the pounding on the wood behind me thudding in time with my franticly beating heart I took off down the corridor, panting with effort and bounding forwards, I didn't have a clue where I was going, not really, I was just following my instinct through the corridors and praying that would be enough to get me out. Casting a fearful glance over my shoulder that mercifully revealed the drawing room door was still closed; I rounded the corner of corridor and took off down another one, the same one where the door to the cellar was. Tearing past the ominous door of my former prison, which stood out plain and terrifying against all the others in the corridor, I swore that I wasn't going back down there, no matter what happened next I wouldn't, Voldemort wasn't using me like that and I'd sooner end this now than spend another second trapped down there. My resolve hardened as this thought took hold of me, it strengthened my determination and powered my already desperate footsteps as I sprinted past doors, portraits and statues and the next corner came into view, forcing my aching, unsteady legs to move faster I raced towards it. Crack. The sound echoed deafeningly in the silent corridors and my heart stopped dead in my chest as a dark, robed figure appeared at the end of the corridor, his wand drawn. The only person in this house able to apparated around the magical restrictions, Lucius Malfoy, I thought in terror as I yelp of fear escaped my lips, however, hatred, strength and determination soon took over me as faced with one of my attackers and armed once more I took aim at him.

"Impedimentia!" I roared, the blinding light erupting from my wand with a force and ferocity that matched the desperation inside of me and shot across the corridor with expert precision. Malfoy apparated a split second before the spell reached where he had been and I wasted no time in taking off at a frantic sprint, the crash of my spell shattering the dark stone bust of one of Malfoy's ancestors serving as my starting shot.

Stumbling over shards of rock I rounded the corner with the speed of a professional athlete, I had to go, I had to run, I thought my heart beat pounding in my ears and my breath catching and straining in my lungs, they were coming. The next corridor was short and I could see a dimly lit Entrance Hall just beyond it, sighting my goal I picked up my pace and raced on, stolen wand clutched tightly in my hand, Draco's ring bobbing against my chest, and by breath coming out in pants. I knocked over an end table as I careened into the Entrance Hall and my footsteps on the flagstone floor were echoed by another ear splitting crack sounding from across the room, there was no pause this time, no scream and no hesitation, I was ready for him.

"Impedimentia!" I cried again the second Lucius Malfoy appeared before the great, oaken front door, my spell crossed the room in an instant and I only just caught a glimpse of Malfoy's menacing expression changing to one of shock before he was sent flying into the wall by my spell.

There was a thud as he connected with the wall but I hardly heard it, the sound of raised voices and thundering feet sounded from behind me and I was already tearing across the Entrance Hall. My franticly reaching hands grazed the wood of the door as I coiled with it, my fingers desperately searching for the handle and whimpers of fear and frustration escaping my quivering lips as my freedom grew tantalisingly close. I didn't make a sound as I found the doorknob, I knew I wasn't out of there yet, and as I jerkily pulled open the door I was surprised I even had the strength to rush threw it as I was shaking so much. I pulled the door shut behind me with a loud, echoing boom in a vain effort to keep them inside, I knew it wouldn't do much but I had to try, before I quickly turned, jumped down the steps that led to Malfoy Manor two at a time, and took off down the drive. Night was falling, the grey-blue skies darkening at the edges and a thick, silver fog coating the grounds ahead of me, all the better to camouflage my escape, but also the perfect hiding place for guarding Death Eaters. I paid that no heed though, I had to get out, I was almost there, I just had to get down to the gates and then I could apparate away from this nightmare place, and I'd be free. Desperation bringing gasps that sounded suspiciously like sobs to my lips as I tore down the driveway, my hair billowing behind me in the chill April night air, which cooled the sweat sticking to my forehead and blew the last of the clouds from my brain. I could see the gates, rising up suddenly through the fog and just seconds away from me, however, even then my cautious heart refused to sing, there was still time, I thought dreadfully, I wasn't out yet.

My feet pounding on the drive, my legs aching with the force of my sprint, I reached out for the gates as I neared them but as my franticly searching eyes sought out a handle or a latch and came up empty I felt my heart plummet and my blood run cold. That night, that night when the Snatchers had brought us here, Greyback had had to call up to the house to get them to open it; there was a spell upon it that meant I wouldn't be able to pass through it. Devastation shook my heart, trampling on my hopes and bringing the tears in my eyes dangerously close to spilling, my strong façade finally cracked and I wanted nothing more than to stop and curl up in a ball right here on the drive and weep. I didn't though, my legs kept propelling me forwards even though my brain knew it would do me no good. I was trapped, the Malfoy's would be down here to recapture me any second now, there was no escape. Choking back a sob of despair I was shocked from my misery by the metallic creak of gates swinging open. I blinked twice, sure I couldn't be seeing things right, but I was and the great, gilded gates that signified the end of the Malfoy property slowly and magically swung open and I barrelled through them, no questions asked with a relieved grin twisting its way onto my face and my eyes slipping shut in relief. I was out. Catching myself I forced my trembling legs to a stop, digging my heels into the damp tarmac, I looked over my shoulder at the manor, able to see only its outline through the dense mists but picking up on shouted voices that carried clearly even over this distance. Questions flooded my mind, confusion hitting me in waves and prickling my attention, but now wasn't the time to be looking a gift horse in the mouth, I had to get out of here.

The crunch of shoes on the pathway sounded from behind me and I froze, like a deer in headlights, fear returned as quickly as it had left and I turned cautiously back to face the street, spotting a black hooded figure emerging menacingly from the fog, wand drawn. A Death Eater, I thought tightening my grip on my stolen wand as a readied myself to fight for my freedom.

"Impedi-!" I started but it was too late, my opponent had already begun his curse.

"Avada-!" The Death Eater growled but he never finished it, cutting off with a groan when a jet of red light collided with his back.

"Stupefy!" Another voice had cried and my spirits leapt at the sound of familiar tones. I didn't even flinch when the Death Eater tumbled face first into the tarmac, my attention was focused completely one I the furious looking boy with messy back hair who suddenly appeared, ripping of the cloak that had been hiding him from view with considerable force and scowling down at the Death Eater.

"Harry!" I exclaimed, closing the distance between us in seconds and throwing myself at him with ecstatic abandon. Harry accepted me readily, his familiar arms circling me and holding me close, wrapped up in his fierce embrace I tightened my hold on him and buried my face in his neck, the tears I had been suppressing for far too long finally leaking out.

"Ivy!" Harry cried in relief, hugging me just as tightly as I was him "Ivy are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"It's nothing I won't get over," I told him more tearfully than I would have liked as I clung onto my friend's jumper desperately. I'd missed him terribly, there was no way to adequately describe how it had felt to be left alone in my nightmare and how glad I was now to have a friendly face before me. I hadn't thought I'd ever see any of them again, so to have Harry in my arms now was beyond anything I could have hoped. "I'm fine." I whispered through intense bouts of joy, even though every inch of my wounded body contradicted my words.

"I doubt that," Harry said sounding livid as we reluctantly let go of each other and he glared over at the manor, the furious voices of its inhabitants getting ever closer "let's get you out of here." He said and since I wasn't exactly about to argue on that point I took hold of Harry's hand and let him apparate us away, when the pressure of apparition lifted I was all on to keep myself on my feet, everywhere hurt and I could barely summon the strength to stay upright, but I didn't care, that didn't matter, I'd get over that, the only important thing was that I was away from that place and once again with my friends.

Steadying myself I looked around me, trying to figure out where I was. The rough sea dominated the darkening landscape, its violent waves crashing into the side of the cliff we were standing on and filling the air with spray and sound. The sea breeze, thick with salt and carrying the scent of the coast, blew back my long, tangled, damp hair and caressed my bruised and bloodied face gently as I looked over the swaying grasses of the cliff top and spotted a small cottage, standing solitary in my line of sight with golden lights already shinning out from its windows invitingly. Shell Cottage, I guessed with anticipation, Bill and Fleur's home and the place Dobby had brought the others. Harry, who was looking at me, cataloguing all my injuries with the precision of the older brother he pretty much was to me, noticed my eager expression and abandoned the dark look to smile at me widely.

"Come on," he said, hugging me close to his side and throwing an arm around my shoulder as I wrapped on of mine around his waist, relieved to once again have the other back we walked like this across the uneven ground towards the Cottage, passed through the gates and headed to the farm house front door, complete with an ancient brass knocker. As we stood there I quickly dabbed at my eyes with my free hand, trying to make myself seem more stable and respectable, regardless of how my tears still continued to flow, however, before we could open the door raised voices could be heard from inside.

"Ron, please!" Hermione's familiar voice begged and I found my grin widening, despite the obviously urgent sense of her speech, it just felt good to hear her voice.

"No, Hermione," Ron countered firmly and my ridiculous beaming reached new levels of lunacy, but I didn't care, they were here! "We've waited long enough. Harry told us that Malfoy was back half an hour ago and his shift ended fifteen minutes ago, something might have happened," he said, punctuating the urgency of his words by abruptly pulling open the door. My adamant redheaded friend, glancing back over his shoulder at a worried looking Hermione, both of them framed against the golden glow emitting from within, appeared in the open doorway and I felt my heart to swell just at the sight of them both, "we need to go…" he trailed off as he turned to step out the cottage and saw me standing there, shock wiping everything else from his features.

"Ivy!" Hermione cried, quickly pushing past a dumbstruck Ron and rushing towards me. Harry chuckled as Hermione wrapped her arms around my neck and I beamed like a madwoman as I clutched her tightly. "Oh God, Ivy, we've been so worried!" she half sobbed and I patted her bushy hair, not minding how it tickled my nose.

"It's okay," I said almost laughing now "I'm here."

"Ivy?" Ron questioned, coming up behind Hermione and looking as though he hardly dared to believe it was me, tears running down her cheeks but a wide smile in place Hermione let go of me and backed away.

"Yep," I said, starting forwards and pulling Ron into a jubilant embrace, he took me into his arms easily and lifted me off the floor with his enthusiasm as he hugged me tightly.

"Bloody hell," he breathed in my ear "it really is you." And at that I really did laugh, shuddering giggles that shook my entire body and sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks. It was over, I was back, I thought thankfully as I clung to Ron desperately, I was back with my friends, safe here with them and nothing would ever part us again, not so long as I had a breath in my body to prevent it. My heart overflowing with intense joy I stayed firmly where I was, basking in the jubilation of our reunion and holding onto the image of my friends ecstatic faces as I closed my eyes on my ordeal and gave into my tears.


	24. Keep calm and carry on

**Author note: a fortnight is an unacceptable length of time to keep you waiting, I am quite aware, but please accept my apologies because I've had a bit of a tired few weeks. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**Chapter twenty-four: Keep calm and carry on**

**Ivy**

Taking a slightly ragged breath and feeling my heart constrict with a sudden and inexplicable nervousness, I rested my shoulder against the wall outside the small bedroom with an exaggerated air of nonchalance. I was fine, I told myself firmly and in the same adamant tone I'd been using all day to assure others of the same, I didn't have the time to be anything else. Staring at the door in a troubling mixture of resolve and anxiety, which set my facial features in a hard frown and had my stomach twisting awkwardly, I shook myself. Stop being ridiculous, I thought berating myself, you've got no reason to be nervous, none at all! It's just a simple question, the answer doesn't even matter that much, not really. Biting my lip and blinking as though to clear my head I pushed myself away from the wall, cringing when the wooden beam I leant against brushed painfully against a particularly sensitive bit of skin. My breath came out in an outraged gasp and I scowled at the offending beam, though I was more irritated with myself than it, there was no need for me to continue going on like that, I couldn't possibly still be hurt that bad. I was fine!

However, every fibre of my body howled in disagreement, and with the aches and pains of an old woman I straightened up, tucked a strand of my once again smooth brown hair behind my ear and took the wand from the pocket of my white dressing gown. I looked down at the slender wand for a moment, my apprehensive gaze taking in the sight of the completely unimpressive stick which was causing me all this dread. Ridiculous, I repeated, quickly glancing away and covering as much of the wand as I could with my fingers, shifting and hiding it completely behind my back. It doesn't matter either way, I continued to assure myself as I stuck my chin out defiantly, it's inconsequential, a wand was just a means to an end, the object that would allow me to do what I had to do, mine was lost forever to the grisly inhabitants of Malfoy Manor and this one would simply have to do for now. But, I still had to know. And I would know, I thought as I looked out across the empty, softly furnished landing of Sell Cottage, done up in comfortable, homely colours and styles that couldn't help but make you feel safe, just not yet. Fleur had made it perfectly clear what she thought of her wounded houseguests wandering around and exhausting the infinitely sicker members of the household, but this couldn't wait much longer and I had asked her if I could have a word with Mr Olivander. The pretty French girl hadn't looked impressed when I voiced my request, in fact, she muttered something about children not being considerate enough to leave poorly people alone, but ultimately gave in on the condition that Mr Olivander be given a choice as to if he accepted my visit. She was inside talking to him now and stood outside, both eager to leave and desperate for my answer, I sighed and absentmindedly curled the fingers of my free hand around my chain I let my eyelids drift shut, still tired despite my lay in, and let the events of the day replay before my eyes.

Everything hurt. My battered body was in agony right the way from my throbbing hair follicles to my tender toes, and it showed no signs of letting up any time soon. Hermione and Fleur had fixed up the majority of my injuries, including the cuts on my face and the mysterious bruises on my arms and torso I don't even remember getting, however the lingering ache of too many brutal Cruciatus Curses would take some time to shift. As would the emotional distress, I was aware, but I was deliberately putting that aside for now, capping it in a tube and using it to fuel my now completely determined actions. My weighty heart, which had felt like a stone in my chest these past few months, was once again alive and twisting in my thoracic cavity as it struggled with the new emotions that its formerly dormant state couldn't handle. It fluttered and pranged and clenched in the most confusing and torturous of ways, unable to make sense of what it was processing as I point blank refused to let my brain consider what had happened in too much detail. I wasn't avoiding dealing with the many ways the experience had messed me up, or ought to have done (I wasn't sure how I felt about hardly anything anymore), I was simply putting it out of my mind to deal with when all of this was over and I could afford to spend time sorting through it properly. For now, it was better served acting as lighter fluid to the flame of my devotion to the war.

Despite my internal battles I was oddly composed, or rather as composed as I could ever be. The experience, while it hadn't quite sobered me, had been a long, hard look at what my world was turning into and a not so gentle reminder of what I was fighting for. In short, it was, in a twisted kind of way, exactly what I had needed. To see the naked force of Voldemort's fury and to feel the harsh brutality of his new regime was a massive culture shock to me and the lifting of the veil that had unconsciously hung between the real world and our sheltered group, revealing the true ugliness our world had taken on. It forced me to remember that this wasn't about me or my jilted heart, it was bigger than me and it always had been, the monstrous rein of Voldemort couldn't be allowed to continue, and we had to stop it. I was keeping strong; clinging onto this knew understanding and using it to keep myself calm, using it to push aside my own suffering and try to get over my heartache, which had plagued me and effected my efforts the whole time we had been on this mission. That couldn't be allowed to continue. I hadn't cried since last night, when I had been reunited with the others outside the cottage, and I wasn't going to start again now, the time for crying was over and action was all that was left for us.

I had felt resigned, determined sitting there with my head held high and only the faintest traces of rage and misery niggling at the edge of my consciousness. I was going to use this experience to the advantage of our mission; it would have some purpose, if only to intensify the effort I put into it. I wanted to fight, I would have gone out that very instant to search for the next desiccated piece of Voldemort's soul, had my overprotective friends not had other ideas. It had been half past three in the afternoon, the day after my escape from Malfoy Manor, and I had not been allowed to leave my bed. My friends had insisted that I sleep in until noon to regain my strength, which in my shattered state I had appreciated greatly, and once I had woken up, and while I gorged myself of three days' worth of missed food (the length of time it turned out I had been trapped for), the others had filled me in on what had happened. Their own escape, Dobby's murder, Harry's revelations about the mission and his own choices, and their plans to save me were all included in this. They also told me of their conversation with Mr Olivander about the Elder Wand, which he believed did actually exist, and their deal with Griphook the Goblin, which if truth be told, had sounded a bit dodgy to me. I didn't think it was wise to try and trick the obviously crafty Goblin, however there was no way we could do without the Sword of Gryffindor either, so it was a tricky situation.

It was now our aim, thanks to my visions and Bellatrix's frightened reaction to us having the Sword of Gryffindor, to search her Gringotts vault and see what else she was supposed to have stashed in there. She had been too unhinged by the mere suggestion of our having been in there for there not to be something worth taking hidden inside. This was all fine and good and interesting of course, but I was restless, anxious to be doing something, while the hope and sense of purpose an objective provided was more than welcome, there was still some things that needed to be done. And once completely stuffed on chicken soup and homemade cookies, Hermione was never satisfied that I had eaten enough; I had had every intention of getting of that done. I had no such luck though and confined to a bed in the spare room, surrounded by my three worried friends, who enclosed me on all sides, I was left to shift restlessly under the covers and try to ignore my building headache as they questioned me on what I'd sooner just forget.

"What did you say to her again?" Hermione asked interestedly, when I reached the part in my explanation where Bellatrix had brought me to be tortured for the final time, her quill and parchment at the ready as she transcribed the events as I recalled them.

"I can't remember exactly," I hedged awkwardly as we continued to discuss the disconcerting issue of my unusual warning to Bellatrix, something that didn't sit well with me, as the last thing I needed was for my Inner Eye to start playing silly beggars with me now. "I think I told her to beware of a mother, no, that wasn't it, it was a mother's love I told her to watch out for," I said making a face at the absurdity of the statement, "and then I said something about her and You-Know-Who being defeated by what they didn't understand. Or something to that effect." I finished, my eyes tightly shut and scowling as I tried to recall the words spoken in a state of half delirium.

"Weird," Ron commented around a mouthful of cookie, from where he sat casually in a chair by my bed, his feet propped up on the nightstand and polishing off the plate of food I hadn't been able to stomach. I felt it was safe to say I was on the mend; Ron was once again he usual self.

"It's not weird, Ron," Hermione said reproachfully, shooting Ron a look that had him staring across at her in innocent bewilderment, unable to see what he had said wrong, I laughed.

"It is actually," I said, happy that some things had returned to normal, though there was still a troubled edge to my voice despite the euphoria of my new found freedom. "I've never done anything like that before."

"Never?" Harry, who had clearly been greatly affected by the whole Malfoy Manor fiasco, asked seriously from where he sat at the foot of my bed.

"Not that I know of," I said, making a conscious effort not to wince as I pulled myself up in bed, my back brushing against the pillow and sending shooting pains through me, that didn't matter though, I wasn't talking to them laid out like someone on their deathbed. Once sitting up against the headboard and trying to ignore their anxious glances, I continued, "It was strange," I said with another thoughtful frown as I recalled the disconcerting sensation that had swept over me then "the words I said weren't my own, I was sure of that, I didn't think them or make any notion to speak them, they just came out."

"Like being possessed?" Ron asked, no longer looking comfortable but now sincerely concerned. I shook my head.

"No," I disagreed, "it wasn't like I was possessed or Imperioused, I couldn't feel anyone else there, but it wasn't me saying those words…even though it was," I said, scrunching up my face in annoyance as I struggled to describe the peculiar feeling that had overcome me, "It was like someone was borrowing my mouth, no, not even that – oh I don't know!" I exclaimed giving in and racking my hand back through my hair in exasperation, "It was weird whatever it was. I didn't feel threatened or frightened or anything, just strange, I couldn't understand it and I still can't now, but," I added tentatively, remembering something "I felt sure that what I was saying was the truth, that these words were right. But that's absurd," I dismissed, "it was probably just my mind cracking, a delusion thanks to all the strain they were putting me under. I've probably just gone mad." I added with a shaky laugh though no one else looked amused.

"Don't you think it could have been a vision?" Harry asked me and I felt my smile slip from my lips and my body grow suddenly ten times heavier. I sagged.

"I've thought about it," I admitted, turning away to play with the needle work on my covers and purposefully not looking at anyone, "I know better than anyone else that my visions like to confuse me and trip me up," I told them, thinking of how I hadn't believed in my vision dreams until it was too late and Ron had already been poisoned, something I could have prevented by trusting my instincts, "but why would they suddenly change like that? I've always had visions, I don't make prophesies like other Seers, Dumbledore said that it was extraordinary for someone like me to even exist now, as Seers like me are so rare, but why would my sight suddenly go from clear images in my head to confusion and riddle words? Prophesies are uncertain, fuzzy and a bit too…Trelawney, for my liking." I said my frown deepening and Ron snorted at the mention of our former Divination teacher. Even though I now knew she was capable of predicting actually futures I still wasn't fond of her, she had proclaimed me dense and sightless in our third year, a statement with had cemented her fraudulence in my eyes and most of the time she just talked rubbish anyway, she didn't even know she could really make prophesies.

"But it's possible," Hermione prompted from where she sat, cross-legged on the bed next to me, her tone pensive and thoughtful "you have done similar things before, Ivy, you told me that you get notions, feelings about people and things and that they're often true. This might be similar."

"Yeah, I suppose it's possible," I conceded reluctantly "I do get feelings about stuff all the time, but this is different isn't it? Words came out of my mouth that I didn't put there."

"Your powers might not only include visions though," Hermione said, sounding as though she were having an epiphany, "they might be many layered, visions, prophesies and notions. Sight is considered a very complex thing, most Seers' skills develop as they grow in age and magical ability, and maybe that's what this is."

"Maybe emotional experiences affect your visions too," Harry suggested in a contemplative tone of voice and I looked at him uncomfortably, not really liking the direction this was going in, "maybe the stress of what happened at the Manor unlocked this ability for you, made it necessary, causing you to make a prophesy."

Hermione, looking deeply impressed by the suggestion, exclaimed a quiet 'of course' and quickly wrote down Harry's words, Ron pulled a face of agreement and nodded at the possibility, while I tried to move the conversation on. The idea that being tortured by my ex's family had given me this new 'gift' wasn't a particularly pleasant one. "I knew what I was doing the whole time though," I said, hoping to thwart them with this, "Trelawney can never remember it after she makes a prophesy, but I can."

"That's just one Seer though, others might be fully aware of their predictions," Hermione reasoned looking up from the parchment she was scribbling on, "and besides, we've already agreed you're different, that rule might not apply to you."

"Whoop-ti-do," I drawled sarcastically and the others shared concerned glances, perhaps worrying at my sanity, just for a change.

"Isn't this a good thing, though?" Ron asked, looking bewilderedly at me and sitting up in his chair "if you're right then You-Know-Who can be beaten, we know we can do this," he said, excitement and hope obvious in his voice, "and besides, I thought you wanted to understand your powers more and get better control of them. Why does this bother you so much?"

The others all turned to look at me, obviously understanding my unease no more than Ron had and pointedly I avoided their gazes as I felt foolish. Maddeningly even I couldn't really understand why I didn't like this potential new ability of mine, but I didn't want to trust it and it got my back up. I wanted things to go back to normal, I didn't like how much everything had changed now, however different and clearer things looked this side of my ordeal, and for my visions, one infuriating constant in my life, to be changing too, it frightened me. It might have been stupid and childish to feel this way but I couldn't help it, everything was changing now, I could feel it and I didn't want it to, everything I believed in was shifting, growing stronger or else vanishing entirely and it was terrifying, there were some things I didn't dare to let go of. I couldn't admit any of this out loud though.

"It's not that I don't want it to be true," I said exhaustedly, running my hand through my hair again, "of course I do, I'd love to be able to tell you all with absolute certainty that You-Know-Who is going to be brought down, and I have no doubt that we will do that in the end, I have the upmost faith in that," I said, looking at Harry purposefully, sitting as he was, tall and determined at the foot of my bed, he looked every inch the leader he was going to have to be, "but this prophesy, if that it was it is, it's not certain, I don't know what it means, what it is and if we can trust it. What good will it do us to walk around thinking it's set in stone, that we'll succeed? We'll get complacent and things that need to be done might not happen. With these things there's always a series of events that have to take place to lead to the prediction and if we're certain it will happen anyway we might not do what we have to. It's too dangerous and I won't risk it." I said firmly, knowing there was no room for failure here, that the Wizarding World was depending on us and I refused to let one possible prophesy, hissed at Bellatrix in anger, to jeopardise that.

"And if it's true?" Harry asked and I looked across at him.

"Then great," I answered without a second thought, "I want it to be true, I'm just saying we should be prepared for the fact that there's a chance that it isn't." I said, surprising my friends greatly as it wasn't at all like me to be calm and logical about things, but being trapped in a former boyfriend's cellar will change you somewhat. "What I said wasn't even about You-Know-Who anyway, it was about Bellatrix, so there really isn't any certainty." We lapsed into a silence then, each of us thinking about what had been said and I could see on the others faces that they agreed with me, that it was safer for everyone to just carry on as normal, as though I hadn't made a possible prophesy.

Despite my warning words I didn't feel morose or pessimistic, quite the opposite in fact and though a confusion still weighed heavy on me after the events of yesterday it was less than what I was used to managing by this point. I was free and once again reunited with my friends, and if that wasn't enough to sweep away any hint of misery I didn't know what was. Though my friends all looked troubled by my words I found myself sitting up a little higher in my bed, my heart lifted by the hope and purpose that filled me up and well and truly looking to the future, there was no point in dwelling on the past, it had been and gone and there was nothing I could do about it, I saw that now, and while I hadn't matured to the point where I would pass up a chance at revenge, I could put aside my personal problems.

The world was suddenly a bright and sunny place after the dark and frightening confines of the Malfoy Manor, and it was impossible not to be uplifted by that. The sunlight, warm and comforting, broke through the clouds outside and streamed through the open window, feeling brilliant against my skin and pleasant dispute how I fidgeted beneath my covers, anxious for action. It was one of those lovely spring days, so warm and sunny that it seemed to be a reminder that summer was just around the corner and that the miserable winter months were finally coming to an end. Fluffy white clouds drifted lazily across the powder blue sky and there wasn't a hint of grey or a drop of rain from an April shower to be seen. Daffodils, vibrant and cheerful, swayed excitedly in a gentle cooling breeze, like many dozens of yellow hands waving up from the ground below, or a butter coloured sea stretching out just before the real one. Someone, I didn't know who, had been down to the garden and cut a few flowers while I was sleeping and I had awoken to the sweet scent of a bouquet of Daffodils, neatly arraigned in a blue and white vase by my bedside, and in spite of everything I had smiled. Hope and new beginnings, that was what Daffodils symbolised and that was exactly how I felt today, a more appropriate flower I never could have picked, and even the memory of the last time I had seen such a bouquet hadn't put any kind of damper on my mood.

You see, it had taken me awhile and a hellish three day experience, but I had finally managed to look past my own heartache and realise there were more important things to worry about, and with the exception of one final issue, I was ready to put it all behind me, at least for now. I wasn't stupid, I knew myself too well to think this calm would last, but in the wake of my happiness and freedom I was hoping to be more useful to my friends and our effort than I had been before, brooding over him all the time. For now I was level-headed and I doubted there would be a better time to broach the subject of what had been troubling me, but first there was something I needed to say.

"We don't need this prophesy to beat him, you know," I said with a determined look in my eye as I stared across at the others, who slowly came out of their own thoughts at the sound of my words "we know what we're doing next and I know we can do this."

"It's good to know one of us does." Ron joked though the uncertainty in his voice was obvious.

"We have to," Harry agreed seriously from the foot of my bed and I nodded at him, a small smile playing at the corners of my mouth, glad of the conviction I saw in him, how it mirrored my own. To my left Hermione sat up a little straighter and determination showed in her features, and seeing all of this Ron looked more reassured. And that was what we needed, for each one of us to believe that this was still possible.

"There's one thing you still haven't told us," Hermione said, her expression going inquisitive as her gaze fell on me "how did you actually escape?" she asked and even though I had been getting around to mentioning that and I wanted to tell them all my thoughts on it, I still shifted uncomfortably reluctant to voice what I had been thinking.

I sighed, heavily, "you're not gunna like my theory." I said honestly as I moved to get more comfortable in my bed, this would be a long discussion.

"Why?" Harry asked, his tone questioning but also slightly tense, as though he already knew what I was about to say, I could hear the frown in his voice.

I bit the bullet.

"It was Malfoy, he saved me," I said, pausing there the gage their reactions to my strange declaration and all three of my friends' expressions were suitably shocked, "he distracted the others and I escaped while he did." I told them and there was silence, thick and heavy as they digested my words and I knew full well how I must have sounded, like some desperate little girl clinging to her crush and insisting that he loved her, well that wasn't me, I knew what I had seen and this was the only conclusion I could draw, my emotions had nothing to do with it.

At my words the others instantly began pulling various expressions of concern and outright disagreement, the latter mainly from the boys, and oddly enough, quickly sitting up out of his slouch Ron lent forwards began moving my hair and patting my head with such a deep frown in his brow and such tightly pouting lips that he reminded me of a monkey, foraging for lice. Laughing at the image that thought conjured, despite the seriousness of what we were discussing, I blew a strand of hair Ron had knocked forwards out of my eyes and asked,

"Err, Ron, what are you doing?" my tone amused but confused, as this wasn't exactly the reaction I had expected.

Still patting my head Ron responded, "Checking for bumps, you must have hit your head pretty hard." He said and my smile abruptly fell from my lips.

"I'm being serious." I said firmly and Ron pulled away, sitting back in his chair.

"So am I," he said, looking at me with an annoyed expression in place.

"Ivy," Harry said sternly from the foot of my bed, clearly trying to reason with me, however, I could tell that he wasn't happy, his dark brows were knitted together firmly and his glasses were pushed further up his face by his scrunching nose, magnifying his narrowed gaze. "Don't you remember what he did?"

"Of course I do." I snapped, not appreciating the way they were looking at me and how they seemed to think that I was some naïve, love struck child. I wasn't, I had my reasons for thinking what I did.

"Obviously bloody not!" Ron exclaimed, clearly outraged by this and starting to annoy me even though I knew he was only concerned. "If you remembered what he did, how he lied to you, how he let the Death Eaters into the school and tried to kill Dumbledore, then you wouldn't be saying that."

"I'm not likely to forget any of that any time soon." I said, in a voice that was more aggravated that it needed to be, but still, they could have at least listened to me before jumping on the Unofficial Big Brother bandwagon. "And I'm not suggesting that he's Merlin reincarnate for crying out loud! I'm not even saying that I've forgiven him. I'm just telling you what I think I saw, and that was Malfoy blocking me from his parent's view and keeping them preoccupied when I made my escape." Ron snorted at that, clearly no more convinced and Harry continued to look sceptical, however Hermione, rational as ever, lent forward and asked,

"What makes you think it was him?" in an interested tone of voice, though I could tell from her expression that she was still reserving judgement on the whole thing. Good question, the more cynical part of my brain acknowledged, challenging the part of me that still somehow managed to believe in Draco (to this little extent any way) to come up with an answer.

"I don't know exactly, I-" I started to say thoughtfully, pondering the question myself; however, I was cut off by a snide comment from an unhappy Ron.

"Because it didn't happen." He chimed in a singsong voice and I turned to frown at him.

"Look," I said both tiredly and irritably, "let me get this straight, I am not delusional, this isn't some product of my pathetically desperate mind, it's not wishful thinking or anything else like that, and you'd see that if you let me get a word in edgeways!" I snapped and Ron looked taken aback for a moment, his blue eyes wide and his mouth half open, however he recovered quickly, grunted, shared a brotherly look with an equally sullen looking Harry, and stayed silent. "Thank you." I said, working hard at not sounding too annoyed, as I didn't want to be snippy with them, not when I'd just gotten back to them all.

Bypassing the customary irate 'as I was saying', deciding it was an unnecessary jab at a worried friend, I carried on with what I had been about to say. "He was subtle about it, I didn't even think much of it at the time, it's only since I've had the time to sit and think…" I stopped there, deciding I was exactly pleading my case of not being some obsessed fangirl and changing tracks, "it was after I said those things to Bellatrix," I said, well aware that everyone had noticed my sudden change in direction and doing my best to ignore that as I called the distressing memories to mind.

"She was torturing me, saying all her usual crap about me being an unworthy Mudblood and how she was going to kill me and so on and so forth. She made good of her promise, I've never felt so much physical pain in my life and I didn't have any doubt that she would kill me in the end." Looking seriously at the others as watching as they all bleached at my words, "But then Malfoy came in, he seemed surprised to see what Bellatrix was doing and I saw him disarm her and he started to argue with her, I can't really remember what was said, I was half unconscious at the time, but he was telling her that You-Know-Who wanted me alive." I shivered, thinking of the vile reptilian monster and his plans for me, once again more relieved than I could ever say to have escaped. "Bellatrix got angry then, I'm sure you can imagine it, she didn't like Draco telling her what to do and she lashed out and disarmed him. Before that though I'd decided to risk it and just make a run for it, while they were bickering I made to get away, Lucius Malfoy spotted me though and tried to jinx me, but he missed. I grabbed one of the discarded wands and ran for the door, with all of them following close behind." And I didn't need to shut my eyes to see their frantic faces, all four of the Death Eaters racing forwards, framed by the drawing room door and getting ever closer with every passing second, even now I could still feel my heart freeze in fear at the very idea.

"I made it into the corridor somehow missing all their spells but I knew on the long stretching corridors they would have a clear shot at me, however, they didn't get the chance to as Kidda appeared behind the door and shut and locked it with her magic, it wasn't any kind I knew and it was obviously beyond the Malfoy's too as they couldn't open it. Kidda told me to run and I did, I was a few corridors away from the drawing room when Lucius Malfoy apparated in front of me, he dodged my spell and apparated again, but he reappeared when I was in the Entrance Hall and I managed to hit him then." I paused again, remembering how I had stood there, panting heavily with my heart pounding desperately in my chest, looking from the unconscious elder Malfoy to the corridor I had just ran out of, hearing raised voices and frantic footsteps sounding down it. "The others must have gotten past Kidda's spell somehow, because I heard footsteps echoing down the halls, but I wasn't about to wait and find out so I ran out the front door and out into the grounds, heading for the gate. Do you remember when the Snatchers brought us in, how Greyback had to ask to be let in?" I asked the others, and enthralled though they were in my story they all nodded, "well, I remembered that just as I came to the gate. No one was going to open it for me and I was willing to bet there was some pretty strong enchantment on it to keep people getting through, but instead of staying shut or shocking me as I neared it like I had expected, the gate swung open and I ran out… straight into the Death Eater guarding outside and Harry found me, and you know the rest." I said, finishing my story.

"But how does that mean Malfoy helped you, again?" Harry asked, sounding unconvinced, "all it sounds like he did was stand in front of you and talk to Bellatrix; he might not even have meant to save you."

"Thanks Harry," I drawled sarcastically "I'm that loveable am I?" I asked and Ron pulled a horrified face that needed no explanation, "Oh, don't bother," I said before he could say anything, in a tone that was close to disgust, "I didn't mean anything by it, and certainly not what you're thinking. I can accept that Malfoy might have saved me without swooning! I've lost count of the number of times you and Harry have saved me and I'm not writing love songs for the two of you, am I? Give me some credit." Looking awkward and red-faced, and actually quite a bit like he wanted to argue, Ron managed to think better of it and looked away.

"Why do you think he distracted Bellatrix then, if he shouted at her to stop like you said, then he must have known what he was doing?" Hermione asked and I turned my attention back to her.

"I don't know," I admitted, thoughts running through my head as I considered my own story, "it could have been unwitting, and he did say that You-Know-Who wanted me alive, so he could have just been carrying out his master's orders, but I don't know, I obviously wasn't that important if Bellatrix, Voldy's most devoted servant, would be willing to risk his wrath by killing me.."

"But you don't think he was just following orders or didn't know what he was actually doing, what the consequences of his actions would be?" Hermione prompted, clearly interested and I shook my head.

"No, I think he knew exactly what he was doing." I told her and there was a chorus of unhappy sounds from the boys.

"I think you're putting too much faith in Malfoy's ability to do the right thing, it is Malfoy we're talking about here." Harry said with finality, as though that somehow proved his case.

"It's Malfoy." Ron echoed in disgust, like it meant something.

"Oh no," I groaned, recalling the familiar argument but not about to retort with my usual 'what does that even mean? It's Malfoy?', "not this again. No, I don't think Draco helped me out of the goodness of his heart, I might be an invalid today but my brain is still functioning perfectly."

"Why did he do it then?" Harry asked doubtfully, though he seemed somewhat surprised and relieved by my words, more reassured in my continued contempt for Draco.

"For the same reason he does anything," I said matter-of-factly, "because he stands to gain something. It won't be guilt; we all know Malfoy can't feel that particular emotion and doesn't have a conscience to soothe, but I can think of plenty of reasons why he would do it."

"Such as?" Ron challenged.

"Such as absolving some debt he thinks he owes me." I said and my friends shared a confused look, causing me to realise that I hadn't told them everything Kidda had said to me. "When I was in the cellar," I explained quickly, "Kidda let something slip she wasn't supposed to. I thanked her for bringing me food and she said that it was the least she could do for me, especially after how I had helped her master. She didn't say which master but I think that's implied. Maybe this was his way of trying to clear that debt, no Death Eater wants to be beholden to a friend of Harry Potter, especially now we know how dangerous that can be." I said, thinking of Wormtail.

Hermione frowned, seeming confused, "but he doesn't owe you anything, does he?"

"No, I've never done anything for him that I can think of, not that would warrant this, so I don't know, whatever he thinks he owes me probably doesn't exist and in retrospect it's me that's indebted to him now," I stopped there, unsettled by that thought and hating that I was now tied to my ex, noticing the persistent tugging bond that seemed to have attached its self to my heart the very second I saw him in the drawing room, a constant reminder that I owned that traitor my life. I wanted it gone. "But that's not important, if he thought he was evening us out then he'd still try and help me, and that would explain why Kidda said and did what she did."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, sounding intrigued in spite of himself and causing Ron to look at him in an offended manner for braking their brotherly solidarity against me.

"When she brought me food and shut the door on the Malfoy's helping me to escape, she couldn't have done all that without one of her masters' blessing." I said thinking about all the House Elves I had met over the years and how they had been pretty much robbed of their own free will and bound to the desires of their master. No, Kidda was a good and kind elf but she didn't strike me as a rebellious soul, and she wouldn't have been able to go so far against the head of the household without the explicit instruction of one of her other masters, namely Draco.

"Malfoy could have easily told her to make sure you escaped, if he had planned to do it before hand and if, like you think, he was trying to absolve a debt." Hermione agreed, "though it would have been a risky move on his part," she observed thoughtfully, "Kidda might have been instructed to report to Lucius with all her orders before caring them out, I've heard such orders are not uncommon in families with suspicious parents, or there might have already been an order in place that prevented her from doing as asked, in fact there were any number of things that could have gone wrong and Kidda could have been severely punished for helping you." At Hermione's words I felt something inside me recoil in horror, Merlin, I hoped Kidda wouldn't be punished for helping me, I liked her and she had been kind to me, I wouldn't be able to bear her suffering because of me. She won't be, I assured myself, she was hidden behind the door when she shut it and no one saw her and no one knew she had been sneaking me food, she would be fine.

"Hang on," Ron said, almost interrupting Hermione in his hurry to speak, apparently having thought of something essential to his argument, "Kidda could have gone against Malfoy's orders and done what she wanted, Dobby did, he tried to warn Harry not to go back to Hogwarts in our second year." Ron pointed out, though his words lost some of their force as he mentioned Dobby, glancing sheepishly both at Harry and out the window out for respect for the recently departed elf.

"He did," Harry agreed, trying not to look affected but there was a clear flash of grief in his eyes that had us all feeling ashamed even though we hadn't done anything wrong, we all missed Dobby and understood Harry's loss. "But he punished himself for it, and he could never just tell me what he wanted to say, he had to try and persuade me to leave."

"Kidda didn't do that," I said in a soft and considerate tone which I fought to alter, thinking Harry wouldn't appreciate being mollycoddled, "she only hit herself when I first spotted her, which is what made me think she'd been told not to let me see her, and when I tried to press her about the particulars of why she was here. She talked to me relatively openly and if she was going against her masters orders or betraying her family to help me she wouldn't have been able to shut the door so easily, she'd have been fighting with herself, willing herself to do it but unable to. No, Kidda wasn't acting anything like Dobby used to then."

"And don't you think," Hermione said, coming out of her thoughts, "that Malfoy would learn from his mistakes? You tricking him into freeing Dobby and finding out that Dobby had been trying to help you all year would surely have made Malfoy more cautious with his new elf, I'm sure Kidda is under all kinds of restrictions to keep something similar from happening, so it makes sense that she would need one of her masters' permission to do what she did."

"Okay, so the elf acting on Malfoy's orders is debatable, but not one of us could prove it. Is that all you've got or are there any other reasons you think Malfoy is your hero?" Ron asked snidely and I rolled my eyes, for once refusing to rise to the bait, the repetition was getting boring.

"Just one," I told them as they all looked at me expectantly, "the gate, it opened for me as soon as I got near it, someone needed to open it for me and who else stood to gain anything from my escape?"

"That doesn't mean it was Malfoy though," Harry said, though he seemed now to at least by considering my words rather than just taking the opposing view on principle, "I still think Kidda was acting of her own free will, she could have opened it for you, she'd know how to, it was probably one of her jobs."

"True," I conceded, "I can imagine them telling Kidda it was her job to operate the gate, and she may very well have opened it, but I'm sure she couldn't have done it without being told to first."

"It might not have been Kidda though," Hermione said almost apologetically, as she had clearly seen another option, "the gate might have opened for another reason; there might have been a Motion Detection Spell, or they might have been charmed to open when someone of a certain magical ability approached, though that wouldn't explain why Greyback couldn't go through them, however, it doesn't necessarily have to have anything to do with the Malfoys, not actively anyway."

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Hermione," Ron agreed heartily, still prejudiced in his beliefs and unable to look at the situation objectively, though of course, that was rich coming from me.

"However, those spells seem unlikely to me," Hermione continued logically and Ron lost some of his smugness, "the security of Malfoy Manor, especially as you were trapped inside, will have been much tighter than usual, any such enchantments will surely have been taken down to prevent your escape."

"Do you want her to carry on brooding over him?" Ron asked Hermione in an exasperated and reproving tone, which was laughable coming from him. "If she thinks there's even the slightest chance that he's good she'll fall for him again and we'll be the ones left to pick up the pieces when he hurts her." He said with more authority that was deserved. I didn't point out that last time I had picked up my own pieces and dealt with my issues alone, I couldn't have done without my friends of course but I had been more than capable of dusting my heart down after Malfoy had stomped on it. However, instead of saying that I responded with,

"You do know that I'm still sitting here, right?" I asked him, still quite nonplussed by the fact that he was talking about me like I wasn't even there, was this the way they had talked about me after last June's events? Merlin I hoped not. "Because to listen to you talk you'd think someone had cast a Disillusionment Charm over me, I can hear what you're saying. Ron, you need to stop worrying, seriously, I'm fine, talking about this isn't going to send me into a downwards spiral or make me any more likely to forgive Draco, I know exactly what kind of person he is, I haven't forgotten. This is just something I need to talk about, it'll not do me any good to keep it inside where I can over think it and over analyse things, it needs to be spoken about rationally and that's what I'm trying to do now."

"Fine, if we're having a rational discussion I want you to answer me this," Ron said "if you're right and someone did help you escape yesterday, then how would Malfoy or Kidda or whoever helped you, know when to open the gates? Ivy, you said earlier that it was foggy when you got outside, if you couldn't see the gates until they were right in front of you how could anyone else see when you got near them?" Ron asked.

"That's a good point," Harry acknowledged obviously thinking back to last night, "I couldn't even see the Manor from the street, so there's no way that anyone could see down."

"I can answer that," I told them honestly, blinking and frowning as I tried to think of an explanation, and short of some kind of spell I had none.

"It might just have been luck," Hermione suggested with a shrug, though we both knew that was fairly unlikely, "it could have been an accident or they might have opened it for you to run through and it just so happened that they did while you were right in front of it, they might not have intended it to be so instantiations to you."

"That's possible," I said though I didn't really know what I thought, Ron had made a good point, there was no way anyone could have known when I was at the gate, not under those circumstances. "but that doesn't matter," I said firmly as Ron started to look smug again and Harry's serious face deepened, "how they knew when to open the gate is irrelevant, the point is that for whatever reason Draco Malfoy helped me to escape," I said, knowing, deep down, that I was right about that no matter what they said and still bewildered by that, though point blank refusing to romanticise it, Draco will have his selfish reasons. "And now, I owe him my life." I said with obvious irritation and revulsion, repulsed by the idea of owing him anything and seeing that as the key point here, another trouble. I looked out at the others, all of them sharing a look of grave concern, knowing, as well as I, that this didn't bode well.

My eyes flew open as a click echoed across the landing and Fleur pushed the door handle down, the sound reverberating through my thoughts and wiping the repetitious conversations of earlier from my mind. I straightened up, once again intent upon my task, my mind felt considerably lighter after getting my thoughts out in the open earlier, even though that fine bond of debt, which linked me to Draco was still tugging in my chest, yet another ever present reminder of things I'd much rather just forget. I blinked, trying to ground myself in the present, and stood a little taller as I watched Fleur's silvery blond head turn in my direction as she exited the room, her expression was stern and wouldn't have looked amiss on Mrs Weasley's face when she was about to tell off her children. I looked at her expectantly, my heart lifting with anticipation as I waited for her to speak.

"Eee' will see you," Fleur said though it was clear from her sharp tone that she wasn't best pleased about it, "but," she said, raising a hand to stop me as I eagerly started forwards, "you must not tire 'im, eee' iz still very sick and after waz you av both been through I do not want you to make yourself ill." She told me and as there was clearly no arguing with her and what I wanted wouldn't take long anyway, I told her that I would be as quick as I could and would go straight back to bed when I was done. Fleur didn't seem satisfied, but with a harrumph that would do her mother-in-law proud she held her head high and walked away, leaving me to grapple with the last of my apprehensions and push myself forwards.

It doesn't matter, I told myself as I took hold of the door handle and gripped it tightly, not at all and no matter what he says it makes no difference, I just want to understand, and that's all. Brows slightly furrowed and still trying to convince myself of that, I pressed my hands against the sanded, unpolished real wood of the door, turned the handle and pushed it tentatively open. Despite its fashionably aged appearance the door didn't creak on its brand new hinges and the only sound to announce my arrival was the quiet click of the door handle going down and the sot whoosh of the carpet brushing the bottom of the door. Mr Olivander heard me anyway and looked up, a welcoming smile turning the corners of his crinkled mouth in a way that reminded me strongly of my granddad, and with that all my irrational anxieties were temporality forgotten as I felt a rush of genuine respect for the brave old man.

Mr Olivander, one of the first wizards I had ever met and the man who had sold me my wand that day McGonagall took me to Diagon Alley, did not look like the same man he did then. A small, thin and weak looking figure rested beneath the pale blue blankets, the skin on his arm, which was resting atop the covers, was as stark and white as the bone it clung too, with bright blue and green veins running clear as the lines on a road map underneath the paper thin flesh. He looked exhausted, lying back against several thick pillows he looked like a man who had suffered through a terrible ordeal, and that was exactly what he was. Mr Olivander had been Voldemort and the Malfoy's prisoner for over a year, suffering unimaginable torture at their hands in the effort to further Voldemort's cause and punished, I knew from Harry, most severely when he lied or was wrong. He hadn't eaten a decent meal in all that time, or bathed or seen another friendly soul apart from Luna. And I had found just three days unbearable, I thought insidiously. And that was why I couldn't let Fleur try and nurse me or allow anyone to fuss about me, that was why I didn't feel like I had any right to lounge in bed like I was hard done by, how could I when Mr Olivander was laying just next door? I hadn't been through half of what he had.

However, for a man who had experienced more than his fair share of suffering Mr Olivander's disposition hadn't changed at all, he hadn't become morose and sombre, he hadn't sunk into self-pity, instead Mr Olivander was still the same calm, wise and good-natured wizard he always was, and that was why I had so much respect for him. He could do effortlessly what it was taking every ounce of my strength to achieve, he could carry on. I was trying to put it out of my mind, to stay strong and composed in the wake of Malfoy Manor and I was somehow managing to, I knew there were more important things and if Mr Olivander could do it I saw no reason why I shouldn't. But all the same I knew I was struggling, even if I did my best to make sure no one else did.

"Ah, Miss Ivy Jones, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Mr Olivander asked me in his throaty and almost mystical voice as I smiled and walked softly into the room,

"Hello, Mr Olivander," I said politely, "I'm sorry to disturb your rest, I promise this won't take long, I just wanted to ask you something." I told him truthfully, wanting to get straight to the point.

"It isn't any trouble at all, I am tired of all this sleeping and I will help you in any way that I can, my dear. But first I must tell you how relieved I was to hear of your escape, and you have my congratulations, you achieved in three days what I could not alone in one year." He said, without any hint of sarcasm or irritation and I stared at him in bewilderment for a moment, hardly able to believe he had said that.

"I don't really think it's the same," I said as I approached his bed, not liking the comparison, it had been easier for me than it had for him, "I had help too." I told him as I smoothed down the front of my dressing gown. "You look better, Mr Olivander." I told him, thinking that he did, there was a sparkle and happiness about him that there hadn't been in the cellar and it made him look healthier, though proper food probably also had something to do with it too. He looked almost to have a new lease of life, regaining your freedom, I knew from experience, could do that to you, and though I was still shackled to my old life there was no denying the renewed sense of determination and purpose I felt, I could only assume Mr Olivander felt something similar.

It didn't occur to me that I might have spoken out of turn until Mr Olivander started to laugh, the deep little chuckles of a respectable old man, that my words had had the potential to offend him. "Yes, I suppose I must have looked something quite frightening the other day," he said amusedly, smoothing down his messy white hair and smiling, "you'll have to forgive me."

"Sorry, Mr Olivander," I said, even though he hadn't taken offence as I sat down on the bed next to his, Griphook was in my room with the others discussing our plans for breaking into Gringotts, which sounded mad even in its self but in which I had the upmost confidence, so his was free. "One of these days I'll think before I speak, I'm sure of it." I said in a low done of self-reproach.

"It is quite all right, Miss Jones, I can only be grateful that I haven't wronged you in any way, you have quite a reputation for speaking your mind." He said, still looking amused and without even the faintest hint of reprimand in his voice, which had me smiling at the truth in his words. "What is it you wanted to ask me?"

"Well," I said hedging a little bit, as the worries I had been ignoring during our conversations returned to niggle away at me, poking a prodding, urging me to ask but at the same time holding me back. "To tell you the truth, I was wondering if you could tell me whose wand this was?" I asked, forcing myself to come right out with it as I was clearly being ridiculous and offering the strange wand I held to Mr Olivander.

"I see," he said as he carefully took it from me, his spectacled gaze firmly fixed upon the wand now as he practiced his art and gazed upon it, holding it in front of him with one forefinger on either end. "Like Mr Potter, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley you have acquired a new wand from Malfoy Manor," he said without looking away from the wand he held as I waited with humiliatingly bated breath. "As this wand is most assuredly not yours, Maple and unicorn hair, nine and a half inches. Very firm. If I remember correctly."

"Yes, that was mine," I said, thinking of my old wand with some longing, missing it even as I lent forwards expectantly, waiting for Mr Olivander to continue, "but whose is that."

"Hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches precisely. Reasonably springy. This wand belongs to Draco Malfoy." I was expecting it, there had been a fifty/fifty chance that I had picked up Malfoy's wand back at the Manor, but even so I felt a my heart squeeze a little in my chest and I let my eyes slip shut and I shook my head.

"Of course," I breathed, feeling shaken even though it was only a wand and it had been pure chance that I picked it up and not Bellatrix's new one. Shaking off the odd feeling coursing through me as best as I could, I opened my eyes to find Mr Olivander looking at me in concern and holding out the wand, he wisely decided not to ask and I appreciated that. "Could I just ask you one more thing?" I asked him, clutching the offending wand tightly, and Mr Olivander nodded.

"Of course," he said by way of invitation and I bobbed my head, biting my lip as I got to the troubling part, the part I had really been trying not to think about.

"When the others were talking to you the other day, you told them that wands can switch their allegiance, that when you win a wand in a duel it will work for you as well as your own and that was why borrowed wands don't work well, as you haven't won them." I said, thinking about Harry struggling to use the Blackthorn wand and how earlier today Hermione had been frustrated practicing with Bellatrix's old wand.

"Yes," Mr Olivander said as both an affirmation and a prompt.

"Well, that wand, the Hawthorn wand," I started to say, gesturing to the wand in my grip and physically unable to call it his, "I didn't win it, I didn't duel Malfoy and disarm him, but regardless of that," I paused and frowning in confusion I clenched my fingers around the accursed stick and wished I had the same problems as the others, "regardless of that I still works for me."

"The wand will still work if you haven't won it," Mr Olivander ventured to explain, "a wizard can use any wand to channel their magic, however, it simply won't be as easy or as powerful as if they were using a wand that chose them or a wand that they won." He might have carried on but I shook my head, my frown deepening.

"It's not that," I disagreed, trying to explain, "this wand works perfectly," I said, my brows still furrowed as I looked across at him intently, beseeching an explanation, "when I use it I can't feel a difference between this wand and my own, I only know they're not the same in my head. This wand, it does exactly what I want, when I want it, there's no struggle, no difficulty; it has bent completely to my will though I have done nothing to win its allegiance. Watch," I said, sensing that while Mr Olivander looked interested he was still doubtful, and I trained the Hawthorn wand on a small ornamental figure of a beautiful ballerina woman, seeming to be coming to land after a graceful leap, that was sat on the windowsill. "Accio ballerina," I said clearly and the figurine shot quickly across the room into my outstretched hand, no fuss, no difficulty, no problem. Setting it down next to me on the bed I turned to look at an intrigued looking Mr Olivander.

"Extraordinary," he said, staring wide eyed at the ornament, "and you're sure you didn't do anything to win this wand's allegiance, that you didn't do something to win it from Mr Malfoy."

"I'm certain," I said with conviction, "I never had the chance. Mr Olivander, do you know why I can use it as well as my own? I didn't think it was possible, but I was thinking, you said the cores of both wands came from a unicorn tail, is it possible they came from the same animal?" I asked with optimism, I could handle that, if this was just another strange side effect of twin cores, like how Harry and Voldemort couldn't duel without their wands stopping them, then that would make sense and I could dismiss it, anything deeper than that I couldn't think about.

"No," Mr Olivander said, dashing my hopes and causing me to sink a little where I sat, great, "I remember the unicorn your wand core came from distinctly, it was a wild and tenacious creature, as likely, I daresay, as you to surrender a hair to a pursuer. No, I got only one hair from that unicorn."

Sitting back I bit my bottom lip all the harder and thought, desperately, searching for another explanation for my illogical compatibility with this wand, but I couldn't think of anything. "But why then, why can I use it so easily when I shouldn't be able to?" I asked, peering across at Mr Olivander, trying not to let it show how much this mattered, in spite of what I had told myself.

"Wand law is a deep and mysterious magic, Miss Jones," Mr Olivander told me and I knew he had no answer, "even I cannot claim to understand all its secrets. This is unlike anything I have ever seen before. I can only assume that the bond you share with this particular wand," he gestured to the Hawthorn wand I reluctantly held, "is deeper and more complex than we can understand. That it is a connection that cannot be explained by known magic, or is a power beyond that of magic."

**Author note: Yeah, sorry about that guys, I make you wait two weeks and then there's only this impossibly long chapter for you. It just kind of happened though. And there is a purpose, the end there, clearly, and I wanted to show how the events at the Manor have affected Ivy, with any luck we will be progressing a bit further with the next chapter. Thanks for reading, I look forward to hearing what you think.**

**Ivy's wand**

**Maple wood: synonymous with, rebelliousness and toughness, as well as rebirth and creativity.**

**Unicorn hair: pure of heart.**

**And of course the firm characteristic of the wand is self-explanatory.**


	25. These wounds

**Author note: Just wanted to say, before we begun, that I want to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter (and every chapter so far), I cannot begin to describe what your opinions and each of you taking the time to write a review means to me. So thank you, and this chapter is dedicated to all you lovely people.**

**Settle yourselves in, this one's a long one.**

**Chapter twenty-five: These wounds**

**"Nature cannot be tricked or cheated. She will give up to you the object of your struggles only after you have paid her price." Napoleon Hill.**

**Draco**

Teeth tightly clenched, jaw locked almost painfully in place, and holding his breath as though the act of doing so would keep the tears stinging pitifully in his eyes from falling, Draco Malfoy scowled in a way that would outstrip a Basilisk. His hand, tense and white around the stem of the quill, moved violently across the parchment in front of him, the nib all but poking holes in the yellowed paper with the force he exerted. His breath hissed out in pain and Draco loathed the show of weakness, he pressed his mouth into a tight line, his pale white lips almost disappearing with the effort and his teeth quivering and trembling as he bit down all the harder, so much so that Draco couldn't see how they hadn't shattered already. Draco's steady gaze never left the parchment as he wrote, he wouldn't let it, however his tormentors were never far from his line of sight, circling the single desk he sat at like giant vultures and with as much mercy as two scavengers. Arms folded and leering mockingly the Carrows surveyed their victim, delighting in his anger as there was nothing else for them to feed off, Draco refused to wince or cry out in pain, no matter now painful it got.

"Do you think he's had enough, Amycus?" Alecto Carrow asked her brother, slowing right in front of Draco and smirking down at him. "Has it sunk in yet?"

"I dunno," Amycus responded sneeringly as he lent over the back of Draco's chair, purposefully invading his personal space under the guise of inspecting his work, causing the tightly wound blond to stiffen and his porcelain knuckles to tighten around the quill. How he longed to snap it. "Another hundred lines or so might do it."

Alecto sniggered at her brother's words and resumed her circling, her pale green gaze still fixed firmly on Draco, who didn't even bother to glance up as her brother sniggered in his ear and slowly drew away, drawing out the motion so as to cause maximum discomfort. "What do you think, Draco?" the Death Eater asked, his heavy hands landing on Draco's shoulders and jerking him, causing curling end of the 'r' Draco was writing to shoot suddenly upwards, Draco clenched his jaw again, fighting this new pain. "Have you learnt your lesson yet?"

Draco remained silent, and not about to give them what they wanted his only response was the starting of a new line. There was an air of superiority about the blond despite his position as he neatly drew a line for his 't', and he adopted it purposefully, he wanted to make sure the Carrows knew he wasn't some first year that they could knock around, that he was still a Malfoy and a Death Eater, even if he was shamed and they were in their territory now. His pride was all Draco had left by this point. Turning his nose up, as much as someone who was supposed to be writing ever could, Draco refused to give Amycus the satisfaction of his answer and carried on with his task, until he felt the hands on his shoulders tighten suddenly, long, unkempt nails digging into his back sharply, and he knew Amycus hadn't appreciated his insolence. A slow, smug and reckless smile twisted the corners of Draco's mouth.

"Answer me when I talk to you, boy!" Amycus hissed, abruptly pulling Draco backwards in his chair until his spine collided jarringly with the hard wood of the back. "You still think you're something special don't you? You stuck up little child. You think you're better than me, than us, well guess what?" Amycus snapped, roughly shaking Draco as he lent in towards his ear again, his erratic and largely pointless reaction doing nothing to scare Draco, who was past being intimidated by the likes of the Carrows. "You're nothing, you never were and you never will be. You saw to that yourself."

"Your name is a disgrace, Malfoy," Alecto sneered, coming to her brother's aid and stalking back around to the front of Draco's desk she planted her hands firmly at either side of his parchment and lent forwards, her hard, round face just inches from his and causing his lips to curl in disgust. Seeing this, a furious Alecto swept her wand out of her pocket and stuck it right against his neck. "You failed the Dark Lord; you are out of favour, low ranking and worthless, but still you look down on us. Do you think anyone will care what we do to you? That even your parents, who you led into disgrace, will care after what you did? We could kill you now and no one would even try and stop us." She snarled and Draco glared back at her, knowing the truth of her words and feeling the sting of it, though he was careful not to show it. Regardless of that though there was one small part of him, one small bubble of hope that refused to burst and insisted there was one person that would care, one person who despite everything still felt for him. However, Draco was quick to suppress this thought.

"We thought that was what we were trying to teach you," Amycus said menacingly as he lent forwards and wrapped his hand around Draco's left one, the one that held his quill, "but don't worry, we'll make sure you know exactly what you are." He said as he pressed crushingly on Draco's hand and dug the quill into the parchment, searing pain shot through Draco's other hand, like something was trying to burrow through his skin, and he bit back a cry of agony. Amycus released his grip, making sure to throw Draco's hand forwards so that it drew a blunt red line across the parchment and the corresponding pain scolded his hand. Alecto noticed his flinching expressions and grinned.

"Useful little thing ain't it?" she said, nodding at the quill in Draco's grip, "Umbridge didn't want to part with it, we think she made the Mudbloods sign their names with it before she sent them off to Azkaban, but they made her give it us. But you know what? I reckon this'll be useful for yer. I've heard that two years ago you were the reason so many of yer classmates had to suffer this, that you turned them in to Umbridge. Ironic isn't it, how far you've fallen?"

"Fitting, I say," Amycus spat in his gruff and heavy accent, coming around the desk to stand beside his sister, both of them looming over an increasingly irritated looking Draco, who, though fuming with his contempt for the pair before him, once again couldn't help but think of one person he had caused to suffer this agony. One person who his stint on the Inquisitorial Squad had hurt. Capturing her image he felt his heart lift with hope once more, even as he added this to the list of things he needed to make up to her for, he still drew strength from his thoughts of her.

"Very fitting," Alecto smirked, the misshapen stone of her face twisting into a grotesque grin as she swept backwards away from the desk, "Amycus," she said her gaze flicking in the direction Draco knew the grandfather clock was, though he refused to turn around and look at it and had long since lost track of its chimes, his mind too busy focused elsewhere, "the filthy traitor has taken up enough o' our time, it's almost midnight and I'm sure there'll be at least one little kid sneaking about the corridors who needs punishing before we turn in." Alecto said with visible glee as she looked over Draco's head at her brother, clearly excited at the prospect of inflicting more pain. Draco felt his scowl deepen and his stomach roll with the inhumanity of it, but he hid it well.

"I'll bet there is, sister," Amycus replied eagerly in his gravelly voice before turning his attention on Draco, who was still sitting, straight backed and defiant in his seat, "ger up!" Amycus snarled, taking Draco by surprise when he snatched hold of the blonde's shirt collar, long, dirty fingernails scrapping the flesh of his neck, and roughly yanked him to his feet. Draco stumbled, his chair squealed as it scraped backwards across the floor, pushed along by his own staggering legs, and as soon as Draco could stand properly he threw off Carrow's grip, glaring at the short, stodgy man indignantly. Amycus didn't like that and his watery blue eyes flashed with anger, however, Draco only squared his jaw and continued to glare at his fellow Death Eater in clear loathing. His hand twitched for his new wand, but Draco wasn't stupid, furious at this disrespectful treatment though he was, Amycus already had his wand and he knew it wouldn't do him any good to snap and curse Amycus now; it would only make things worse. But Merlin, did he want to.

Draco refused to back down though, he was tired of bending to the Carrows' will, of suffering at their hands and being made to feel inferior by two such disgusting specimens, he wanted to stand up to them, however, Alecto made Draco's choice for him. "Searo," she hissed and abruptly Draco backed away, gasping for breath and grasping his cheek as the searing pain of Alecto's spell collided with the side of his head, knocking it sideways and stinging at his skin mercilessly. Amycus, supposedly blindingly furious just seconds before, sniggered at Draco's pain and folded his arms across his ample chest and adopted an expression of intense superiority.

"Quit while yer ahead, Malfoy," He sneered as the pain in Draco's face subsided and his livid blue gaze shot to the speaking Death Eater, "stop digging yer self an even deeper hole and know when yer beat. Now, get outa here before we change our minds and restart yer lesson."

Pulling his hands away from his still throbbing cheek Draco knew better than to speak, better than to respond in any way, and swallowing all his fury and pride he balled his hands into shaking fists, took one last loathsome look at the two revolting creatures, standing side by side and leering at him mockingly, and promptly turned on his heel and swept from the room. His head held defiantly high. However, it was as he reached the door, his hand wrapped around the handle, that Alecto's harsh voice rang out again.

"Searo," she repeated, the crackle of her spell as it shot through the air drowning out the laughter she and her brother gave into, until it crashed into Draco's back with all the force and delicacy of a speeding troll and the blond was knocked forwards, the sound of their mirth assaulting his ears. Hunched over and fuming, the pain lashed at Draco's back, seeming to burn his skin everywhere it touched, sucking in deep breaths Draco tried to calm himself, his stark white hand, clamped tightly around the door handle, giving away the effort. He'd had worse, he told himself, this was nothing compared to a Cruciatus Curse from Voldemort, and Slytherin knows he'd had plenty of those. "We'll see yer tomorrow, Malfoy." Alecto added, and mastering the pain he felt Draco didn't even look back over his shoulder at them as he wretched open the door and swept out of their office, cutting off the sound of their cackles with the boom of the heavy wooden door.

Draco charged down the steps of the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, his hands still balled into tight fists that trembled visibly with the force of his fury. Footsteps echoing on the gleaming wooden floor as he swept through the classroom Draco fought hard against the insult of the Carrows' words, refusing to be effected by them. When Draco exited the classroom and stepped out onto the deserted corridor he made sure to slam the door as loudly as he could, the consequences of his actions be damned, he had had enough of their constant punishment and haughty treatment. It was three weeks since Ivy's escape from the Malfoy Manor, three weeks since he had done everything in his power to save her, and since then he had suffered three weeks of ridicule and punishment. Draco didn't care too much, the reverence and honour his fellow Slytherins had once bestowed on him had always irritated him and he had hated how he had become a Death Eater whipping boy, but for someone accustomed to an almost feared respect amongst their fellows, such a dramatic fall from grace was a massive culture shock. Of course, it was less of a fall and more of a jump, as this had been Draco's choice and one that he would make again in a heartbeat, the terror that had gripped him pitilessly when Kidda told him Bellatrix's plans for Ivy still haunted him in his nightmares.

He had returned to the Manor on that fateful night full of hope and optimism, he had had a plan and he was going to free Ivy, no matter what that meant for him, it was a massive sacrifice, but he knew that she was worth it and for the first time in his life, he actually wanted to do this right thing. However, this was Ivy, and true to her style she made sure nothing was ever easy for Draco and attempted an escape on her own. Vividly, Draco remembered racing through the corridors of his home, running faster and with more desperation than he ever had in his life, Bellatrix, infuriated by the trouble Ivy had caused for her, was going to torture and kill her under the guise of trying to find out information for Voldemort. It had no longer mattered to her that the Dark Lord had decreed she was left alone, and so Ivy had lost her only safety net. The sight that awaited Draco when he burst into the drawing room had stopped his heart, Ivy, unmoving and defenceless on the floor, completely at Bellatrix's non-existent mercy, was lying face down on the carpet with her dark brown locks in a mess around her head, hiding her face from view. In the split second it took to take all that in and to restart his heart, Draco felt fury unrivalled by any he had ever felt before, murderous with rage Draco cast his spell in an instant, disarming Bellatrix though he would have rather hit her with a thousand other more lethal curses, he only restrained so he could interrogate her. He had to know what she had done.

Impervious to his aunts obvious fury, which paled in comparison to his own, Draco wasted not a second in charging across the room and putting himself between Ivy and his family, who were all hell bent on seeing her suffer. However, shouting at Bellatrix about the only thing he could, her disrespect for the Dark Lord's orders, Draco forgot about the resilience of the tortured girl behind him who, making the most of the distraction he provided had clambered to her feet and made a break for it. Unfortunately there was one person amongst them who noticed this, and it wasn't Draco. His father spotted the fleeing Seer and shot a spell at her, horrified Draco span around just in time to see Ivy crash to the floor, the world slowed and his heart stopped for half a moment, until his father's spell collided with the wall and he realised Ivy was unharmed. She wasn't safe for long though as, as one, the Malfoy's and Bellatrix started forwards towards her.

Draco ran, frowning with concentration and swinging his arms with effort as he watched Ivy grab a wand from the floor, his wand he later realised, and also the memory vial, which Draco had been holding when Bellatrix disarmed him right after he did the same to her, and staggering only a little on her unsteady feet, Ivy took off for the door. Draco's mother and father, the only ones still in possession of their wands, shot spells at Ivy's sprinting figure, desperate that she didn't escape and obviously terrified of the Dark Lord's retribution if she did. However Draco foiled their attempts in every way he could, knocking their aims wide as he ran pell mell between the two, and obscuring their view of her. Not a second too soon Ivy made it through the door and took off down the corridors, with the Malfoys and Bellatrix still a safe distance behind her, though Draco would sooner be with her, making one hundred per cent sure that she got away, however, as soon as she was halfway down the corridor she skidded to a stop.

No, Draco thought franticly as he raced onwards, don't stop, keep going! But Ivy didn't heed his silent pleas and she just carried on looking back, a mixture of awe and fear on her exhausted face as her chest already rose and fell visibly with the force of her exertions, she seemed paralyzed by what she saw and Draco was terrified that if she didn't move now then he wouldn't be able to stop one of his parents spells from hitting her. What was she doing? He thought furiously, she's going to get herself killed, why couldn't she just run? Just do as I want this once! He willed earnestly however, Draco was soon granted his wish in the most bittersweet of ways when Kidda fulfilled her earlier promise to Draco and helped him to keep Ivy safe. He couldn't see her but he later found out that she shut and locked the door so that Ivy had the chance to run. This was all fine and good later, but at the time Draco was driven to the edge of insanity with fear, as, all but colliding with the impossibly locked door, Draco banged uselessly on the wood as Bellatrix tried the handle, his heart constricting painfully in his chest and unable to keep still for worry, he paced and pounded on the door. He couldn't see her! How was he supposed to keep her safe if he couldn't see her? He raged internally, seeing only red in his intense concern and about ready to tear the door down bit by bit with nothing more than his bare hands, anything could be happening to her now, it may well have been Ivy that locked the door but what if it wasn't? Malfoy Manor was the agreed meeting point for all Death Eaters, what if one had come seeking an audience with them or Voldemort now, what if they got hold of her and hurt her? It didn't bear thinking about and Draco raged on.

"It won't open!" a panicked Narcissa exclaimed, looking up at her terrified husband, wild sister and livid son as she exhausted her lock picking spells and came up empty, her fear for all their safety evident on her thin, pale features, if the Seer should escape, then that was it for them. "Lucius, we have to stop her!" she begged her husband and Draco, desisting in his desperate banging at his mother's words, turned to look at them.

"What are you going to do?" he asked in fear, though his father misunderstood it.

"Leave it to me," Lucius Malfoy assured them before promptly turning on the spot and dissaparating, able to get past the wards as Lord of the Manor.

"No!" Draco exclaimed reaching out to stop his father but it was too late, he was already gone and there was nothing he could do, wide eyed and frantic Draco backed away from the others and continued to scale the door, desperately searching for a way to get through it, wandless and fumbling though he was. Draco was vaguely aware of his mother watching him worriedly but he paid that no heed, if he didn't get though here soon and his father got to Ivy first then she'd be helpless.

"Move!" Bellatrix commanded suddenly and Narcissa looked around to see her sister, whose absence she hadn't noticed whilst scrutinising her son, who had reclaimed her new wand and was now aiming it slightly manically at the door. Noticing this and seeing an opportunity to get out of there, Draco quickly moved to the side while his mother did the same. "Confringo!" Bellatrix cried, shooting a jet of purple light at the door, Draco had only the time to lift his arms and cover his face before the door was blown backwards off its hinges, splintered wood flying everywhere. He wasted not a second after that, recovering quickly Draco rushed before a smirking Bellatrix, scrabbled over the wreckage of the door, and was halfway down the corridor before his mother and aunt had even passed the doorframe.

"Draco!" Narcissa cried, frightened for her son who was charging thoughtlessly and recklessly on, terrified about what he was going to do.

"Stop him!" Bellatrix screeched at no one in particular, still not trusting Draco and rightly assuming that he was trying to assist Ivy in her escape. However, Draco ignored the two shouting women and sprinted down the corridors, skidding round corners and spotting the ominous remains of an obliterated portrait as he raced towards the Entrance Hall. He could hear shouting.

"Impedimenta!" Came Ivy's familiar cry and he picked up his pace, sweat breaking out on his forehead that had nothing to do with exercise or temperature. Despite his fears Draco had charged into the hall to find it empty, so convinced was he that he would find his father and Ivy duelling and so horrified by the very thought, that he was momentarily taken aback to see that wasn't the case. It was as he was confusedly scanning the room that Draco realised that it wasn't empty at all, his father, groaning and incoherent, was slumped against the far wall, clearly the victim of Ivy's spell. Draco couldn't bring himself to feel any sympathy for his father; he simply granted himself one small, proud smile for the brunette's duelling skills and started quickly forwards, the approaching voices of his mother and aunt spurring him on.

Pushing open the front door Draco clung to the wood as he franticly scanned the grounds for her, against the darkness of the night and amongst the rolling fog it was almost impossible, but desperation and perseverance prevailed and he spotted her just as she disappeared into the mist. She was making her way towards the gates, that was obvious, they were the only exit currently in operation at the Manor for security purposes, so she couldn't have gone anywhere else. But running that way wasn't going to do her any good, Draco thought, his blood icing over in his veins, she couldn't get through them, not unless someone up here at the house opened them for her or she had a Dark Mark, the latter of which Draco would stake his life that she didn't. Quickly Draco ran back inside, sprinted past his stirring father and rushed in the direction of the servant's stairs, there, hidden safely on the landing and disguised as a wall carving, was the enchanted mark that opened the gates. Focusing intently, as while you didn't need a wand to do what he was attempting it made it a lot easier, Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling every beat of his racing heart keenly and determined to do this right. He tuned out the sounds of his mother and aunt reaching the Entrance Hall and spotting him, the only thing he paid any attention to was the palm sized half sphere calved in the stone of the wall, decorated with a winding snake twisting its self around the sphere and rising its head elegantly and threateningly, focused entirely on this one thing Draco willed the gates to open and said,

"Aperta," hand still placed on the stone orb Draco had felt the gates as they swung open and a surge of elation shot through him at that, but it was short lived, he didn't know if she had gotten out yet.

"No!" Bellatrix shrieked, realising what Draco had done but it was too late, the gates were open and if Ivy was anywhere near them she would have gotten out, however, he had to be sure, and ignoring everything else he raced back to the front doors, ran out onto the steps and scanned the fog anxiously, however, he could see no trace of Ivy in the thick, cloaking mist, and he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

"What have you done!" Bellatrix bellowed, crashing through the half open doors and charging towards Draco, Draco span and stuck out his chin defiantly, flexing his hands to reach for his wand only to recall too late that he didn't have it. His aunt looked murderous, her black tangles were swept dramatically sideways by the force of the evening wind, her stance was wide, her shoulders square and her entire form twitching with rage as she stared out at Draco with undiluted hatred in her coal black eyes. She looked the very image of insanity. "You have doomed us all!" She screeched as Draco, regarding her warily through his narrowed gaze took a cautious step backwards, making his way down the steps, she was about to explode, he could see her skeletal fingers tightening around her wand, and he was in the firing line.

"Bella!" Narcissa Malfoy exclaimed, panting as she forced her away onto the landing and looked on in horror as her sister and son engaged in another confrontation, "Bella, no." she said in warning but Bellatrix paid her no heed, too focused on Draco to think of anything else.

Acting in the interest of self-preservation, though he would much sooner find a wand and duel Bellatrix there and then, he was still furious over what she had been doing to Ivy and how she had been prepared to kill her. But he didn't have a wand, and Draco took another step backwards. "Oh no you don't, lover boy," Bellatrix snarled stalking towards him and striking genuine fear in Draco's heart despite how defiant and fierce he was in the face her fury, "I'm going to make sure you pay for this." She threatened and Draco froze, his narrowed gaze quickly widening as he realised her intent. "Stupefy!" Bellatrix snarled.

"No!" Narcissa screamed and she started forwards, not about to let her sister hurt her son again, but it was too late, the scarlet light shot across the short distance in seconds, there was nowhere for Draco to run and no time to do it in, he was a sitting duck and the spell hit him square in the chest, sending him toppling backwards. He was unconscious before his head collided with the stone steps.

Agitatedly Draco raised his hand to rub the spot at the back of his head, which throbbed in memory of his fall, as he stormed through the corridors of Hogwarts, making his way down to the Slytherin common room. Bellatrix had made good on her promise that night, he thought irately, the Dark Lord had been summoned while Draco was stunned, a story that attempted to soften the catastrophe that had been their attempts to stop Ivy's escape had been concocted and Bellatrix had made sure to tell Voldemort all about Draco's efforts to help her. Everyone in Malfoy Manor had been punished that day, mercilessly, relentlessly and with the full power of Voldemort's fury, their failure wasn't acceptable and they all had to suffer for it, but no one more than Draco. He had been tortured like the others, reduced once again to a weak and quivering mess at the hands of his master; however Voldemort had a special point to make with him. The Dark Lord had no desire to kill Draco, and Draco could only imagine that it was because he could still see some use in keeping him, which caused the blond to shiver even though the castle was warm and pleasant on this spring night, and had instead opted for a longer lasting punishment.

When the school term began again Draco was granted leave of the manor where he and his family had been confined since the escape and where they were still forced to stay, he had returned to Hogwarts expecting a reprieve from the constant punishment he had been receiving for his actions but found no such thing. Every Death Eater knew of the Malfoy's failure and the punishment they suffered because of it, it served as a lesson to them, but what really interested them in the Malfoys' suffering was Draco's actions, for his largely futile attempts to save Ivy had been allowed to circulate. Naturally mock and ridicule and disgust followed Draco everywhere he went, his fellow Death Eaters, repulsed by his 'betrayal' of the Dark Lord and his love for Ivy excluded him, he was only a Death Eater in name now, as none of them trusted him in the slightest and loathed him for his love. Draco was told, by his every merciful master, that he would be given a challenge, a test to prove himself worthy of being a Death Eater, Draco didn't know what this test was or when Voldemort might decide to spring it on him and he couldn't summon up the energy to care, he didn't want to prove himself 'worthy' of being a Death Eater, he had wanted out of their murderous club for over a year now and he'd happily slip to the side-lines and work his way out, the only good thing to ever come from his joining was the flow of information that had allowed him to keep Ivy safe, but he would work without that now. Until this mysterious test took place Draco was an outcast, banished from all Death Eater company and removed from their affairs, demoted so far down that even the Imperioused wizards and scruffy Snatchers had cause to look down on him. That was the worst part of his dismissal, going from someone who commanded respect, however much it grated against his nerves, and had position within society, to someone everyone could just walk all over. I aggravated him but he would get past that, he didn't want to be a Death Eater, his pride and need for power were what had gotten him into this mess and it was a fitting challenge to have to pass those to get out of this nightmare.

This was by no means Draco's only punishment, if it were he would have been able to deal with it, would have been relieved even, however as always Voldemort had the infliction of torture down to a fine art and Draco's suffering had only just begun at the manor. The Carrows were Draco's new sentence. Voldemort had to know how Draco despised and hated them, how their gruff, callous manor infuriated and disgusted him, he had never made any attempt to hide it. Draco could proudly hold his hands up to Amycus' accusations of insolence as that was how he had always tried to be with them. Voldemort, knowing all of this and awaiting the right time to assess Draco's loyalties, a test he would surely fail, had handed over Draco's punishment to the Carrows. Gritting his teeth as he started down the staircases Draco clenched his fists in barely repressed fury, despite how his right hand ached at the action, three weeks of their rough, uncouth smugness and Draco was ready to punch something, he hated that they thought themselves better than him, how they were now and how he was bound to suffer their smugness every evening until Voldemort felt he had had enough, which after the so called crime Draco had committed was likely to never happen. Voldemort was livid at Ivy's escape.

But she had escaped, Draco reminded himself and that thought had a somewhat calming effect, he lowered his shoulders and the scowl left his face, though Draco still looked troubled. Ivy was free and that was all that mattered, that had been his goal all along and it didn't matter that it hadn't gone to plan or that he had to pay dearly for it, as he had said earlier, she was worth it. Despite that thought Draco could only draw so much comfort from the knowledge of her escape; Ivy was still out there, helping Potter on his futile mission and far from safe. Draco could curse Potter for letting Ivy put herself in danger like that, he knew this new world wasn't safe for a Muggleborn like Ivy but there had been other options than running off into harm's way with him, she could have gone into hiding. Accordingly Draco could never quite seem to settle himself, thoughts of what could be happening to her assaulted his mind on a daily basis and were driving him half mad with worry. He had done all he could for now, Draco had to keep telling himself, Ivy was strong, she could look after herself until Draco got the chance to help again, he hoped, but if she couldn't and something happened to her then scar-heads were going to roll.

It was as he was thinking this, his expression hardening and his hands balling into fists, that Draco reached one of the lower landings and heard a whisper and a shuffle a little way to his right. Startled and expecting the worst, like Voldemort finally deciding that Draco wasn't worth the hassle and sending someone to kill him, Draco whipped his borrowed wand from his pocket and span to face the sound, ready and willing to fight. Heart rate quickening with fear and scowling furiously Draco stared out into the darkness of the corridor, however, it wasn't the tall, looming figure of a Death Eater he found half hidden in the shadows, but two frightened looking students, third or fourth years by the size of them. Slumping in relief and irritation, relief that it wasn't a Death Eater and irritation at his reaction, Draco relaxed his fight stance and straightened up, regarding the two students coldly. They were both from Hufflepuff, he could tell by the sunny colour of their ties, visible even in the low light, and there was one boy and one girl. The boy, quickly wiping the look of terror off his face adopted a look of anger as he realised who Draco was and moved to stand protectively in front of the girl, as though Draco might lash out at any minute and strike her. Draco scoffed, they were D.A. members, he decided, you could tell them a mile off; they all had that same look of grave purpose in their eyes, like they could somehow have some effect on this Great War, even though the idea was ludicrous. Draco also knew they were part of Longbottom's lot because no one else would dare to be out of their dorms at this time of night, the threat of Snape and the Carrows was too great for everyone else and D.A. kids had a habit of turning up in random places.

"Get out of here," Draco snapped in a harsh warning, surveying the two only slightly belittlingly as he folded his arms across his chest, "the Carrows will be along any minute and unless you have a death wish, you'd better run along." He instructed coldly, hoping they'd pay attention to him as he was speaking the truth, the Carrows would only be so far behind Draco and these two were exactly the kind of student they enjoyed tormenting the best.

Neither one of them said a word. The girl regarded Draco for a moment, looking up at him with wide eyed innocence as the boy tried to hurry her along, as while he obviously didn't trust Draco he wasn't going to ignore the threat of the Carrows. Good, Draco thought, he's smarter than most D.A. members then. Draco stood waiting for them to leave, uncomfortable under the girl's stare, her mid-length brown hair and short build reminding him of a younger Ivy, though he would sooner not think of her right now, he couldn't bear the hope her thought inspired at the moment, the sentiment was relentless though and he couldn't stop his heart from lifting at her memory even though he chastised himself greatly for it. The three weeks since he had last seen her had diminished his belief in the meaning of the memories and caused him to doubt her continued love, which he had been so sure of at the time, so it was painful to think about her too much.

Her eyes aren't the same though, Draco thought from where he stood, firm and cold and looking down on the pair with his arms crossed and face set in a hard mask, this girls were blue and they lacked all the fire and determination of Ivy's, that was the crucial difference, Ivy's fervour made her what she was to Draco. This little third year would-be-rebel was too meek and serene, and because of that she really didn't look a thing like Ivy. But that said, Draco thought, unwavering in his hard, haughty expression as he watched the boy continue to tug at her arm, urging her to come with him, but the calm girl resisted easily, there was something of her there.

"You're bleeding," the girl said finally, her innocent gaze landing on Draco's right hand, which clamped his left arm tightly, with genuine concern.

Draco bristled and frosted over in an instant, looking away from the girl's worried but understanding face, which seemed to Draco to mean that she knew exactly what he had been through, and unsettled him greatly. "It's nothing," he snapped icily, quickly uncrossing his arms and hiding his hand behind his back and scowling, "but if you don't get out of here soon, you won't be able to say the same, I'll fetch those blasted Carrows myself!" he threatened and the girl's friend immediately stepped forward, his expression livid as he stood between Draco and the girl protectively, Draco met the younger boy's glare with disinterest and a glacial look that would have caused anyone else to back away, but the boy held firm in front of the girl.

"Essence of Murtlap," the girl said gently and Draco started, confused, "that's what Neville told us to use, it'll take the sting away and soothe the scars." She explained and the boy rounded on her, looking appalled.

"Anna!" He exclaimed and Draco understood why, Longbottom was in hiding for his, quite frankly, surprising bouts of rebellion and dissent, he was due to be handed over to the Death Eaters the second he resurfaced and anyone who could lay claim to knowing his location or who had seen him would be tortured until they told them. The girl, Anna, only shrugged.

"He won't tell," she said confidently and Draco couldn't help but look at her in shock, wondering how she could possibly know that, she didn't know the first thing about Draco but she was prepared to believe that wouldn't sell them out. She spoke the truth, Draco had no loyalty to his supposed fellows and would sooner hide Harry Potter himself than do anything to help them, and that troubled him.

Looking insidious and muttering things like, 'he's Draco Malfoy', the boy pleaded with his friend to leave, clearly frightened of the Carrows discovering them, Anna agreed and allowed the boy to lead her away. Standing like a stern and disapproving sentry Draco watched them leave, his expression once again impassive and cold. Anna looked back over her shoulder at Draco as she left with her friend, smiled a sweet, girlish smile and said, "thank you," in a quiet voice that carried across the corridor to Draco. The blond, refusing to soften but oddly moved by her gratitude, inclined his head at her just as she and her friend went to round the corner, and silently he willed them to make it back to their common room before the Carrows found them, the idea that such a little girl had been subject to the Carrows' treatment, and she must have done given the way she spoke of it and how understanding she seemed, didn't sit well with Draco for some reason.

Conscious of the fact that it wouldn't do for him to be caught out of bed now either, regardless of the fact he was just coming out of a detention, the Carrows wouldn't care and the other teachers were no less sympathetic now that he was a shamed Death Eater than when he had been thought some kind of hero, Draco moved on. He had lost his privileged position above the laws of the school and he would be punished as badly as any other student if he was caught out of bed, worse than most in fact. Keeping his head down but his ears open for any unusual sounds Draco made his way quickly down the staircases, images of sympathetic blue eyes and flashes of someone else's memories, a young brunette clinging to him in the forest and an older girl embracing him tightly in the corridors, flooding his mind but Draco swept that all aside, trying to decide if it he would risk breaking into Slughorn's stores to retrieve a bottle of Essence of Murtlap.

The pain in his hand had surpassed the initial burning stunning of the wound and was now emitting dull, constant and aching throbs which he knew from past experience would go on for hours. Flexing his fingers and gripping his arm tightly, Draco had once again crossed his arms, when a fresh jolt of agony shot through him and he looked down at his bloodied right hand, just as the clicking of his dress shoes sounded out in the Entrance Hall and he reached the foot of the Grand Staircase. Draco's brows furrowed reflexively and a fury swept through him as he regarded his wound by the silver glow of moonlight streaming through a nearby window, however once again the blond set his jaw and stuck out his chin boldly, unashamed of the markings on his hand which were having the opposite effect to the one Voldemort had planned. Draco wasn't humiliated, he didn't want to repent, this punishment hadn't weakened his new hatred for his master's regime, it had strengthened it. This conviction running fiercely through him and holding his head high Draco strode across the Entrance Hall, the glimmering scarlet letters on his hands firmly on display in the deserted space, spelling out the one word that had been used to define him more than any other this year, 'traitor'.

**Ivy**

"Wingardium leviosa," I muttered, the soft sea breeze ruffling my hair and bringing the sharp and almost comforting scent of salt to my nose as I gave the Hawthorn wand a swish and a flick, and the small stone lying on the ground in front of me levitated effortlessly at my command. Watching it slowly rise I frowned deeply.

Suspended in the air by the power of my unnerving connection with the Hawthorn wand the stone hovered there while I scowled at it, even now unable to accept Mr Olivander's words, despite how there was no way around them. For some reason I had the ability to use this wand, to use HIS wand, while Harry and Hermione struggled to use the wands they had not won, and while I knew that I ought not to look a gift horse in the mouth and that I needed such a connection to a wand if we were going to be successful in our mission, that didn't make this any more comfortable for me, I missed my own wand and I didn't want to have an affinity for this one. It doesn't matter, I told myself firmly, casting the stone away from me with one swift flick of the wand, sending it careening off through a patch of daffodils, it was just a wand.

Setting the Hawthorn wand down on the ground in front of me, reminding myself that I wasn't out here to be messing around with that anyway, I shifted where I sat, crossed legged in the garden of Shell Cottage, the small mound of Dobby's grave rising up beside me, and turned my face up towards the sun, basking in its warmth and trying to 'centre' myself. I closed my eyes, feeling incredibly stupid but knowing I had to do this. I was trying, perhaps in vain, to gain some control over my visions, to be able to call them up at will, or at least call up any that happened to be there on the edge of my Sight and stop them from forcing themselves on me so violently, maybe then I would be of more use to the others. The violence and abruptness of my visions were less than helpful, the chance that I might suddenly pass out to see the future made me a burden, and what good was it being a Seer if you had to wait around for a vision to present its self? No, I had to get control over this part of me, I had to be of use to the others, so far the only things I seemed to be capable of was predicting troubling and often unclear events with too little notice, flying off the handle at unexpected moments due to my emotions and getting caught, and I had had enough of it. The others each had a skill, something they could bring to the table to help us in our mission, well I had a skill too, but one that was so far out of my control that it had seemed there was nothing I could ever do about it. But no more, I would command my visions and the attempt to do so was long overdue.

This desire came from our new plan to infiltrate Gringotts and retrieve a possible Horcrux from Bellatrix's vault; it was a dangerous task, something that even with Griphook's help had the potential to be deadly and so far all I had been able to See was the presence of a dragon and a feeling on unease when we made our way into a room filled with gold, which I now realised must be Bellatrix's vault. But that wasn't enough and so, every day after we finished planning and going over things, I took myself out into the garden and tried, and often failed, to coax a vision out of my Inner Eye.

Inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth I took deep, and hopefully calming breaths, focusing on the task at hand and trying to banish all thoughts of Draco and his wand from my mind. It had been harder than usual of late, the Hawthorn wand was a constant reminder of him and the memory of how he had helped me and the debt I now owed him a disconcerting and irritating bond that I wanted to be shot of. Just because I could accept that he had saved my life didn't mean that I liked it, I thought, frowning as I felt that now familiar tugging under my ribs that signified this new link to Draco, but surely the fact that I wasn't going crazy or desperately trying to get myself free from him meant I was getting over what had happened. That was also on my to do list, after I mastered my visions, or while I tried to, I wanted completely let go of what had happened between Draco and I, if only until this was all over, it made me a liability and I wouldn't put my friends at risk. It was exhausting being wounded and betrayed all the time, and I didn't have the energy to spare any more. Of its own accord Draco's face appeared in my mind, as I used to know it, a sly, smug smile turning up the corners of his lips, blue eyes alight with mischief and his impeccably styled blond hair fixed perfectly around his head. Feeling something inside of me constrict and almost sigh at the same time my fingers sought out the ring around my neck, sun warmed platinum meeting my skin as I held it tightly. Catching myself I scowled and forced my hand away, since what had happened at the manor I had been painfully aware of my own actions by the way the others scrutinised me to see if I was okay, and I had been just a little bit livid to learn the ring had become a kind of comfort blanket for me. Chest rising and falling as I grew more and more annoyed with myself I knew I had a long way to go to let him go, but I took comfort in the thought that at the end of this I would have the strength to be able to throw his ring away from me and get over what he did. That was my ultimate goal, where mastering this particular problem was concerned, however, now wasn't the time to think about it.

Well aware that wound up as I now was I wasn't going to calm myself down any time soon and so sought out happier memories and thoughts, as I kept my eyes firmly closed and listened to the waves lapping at the side of the cliff. Three weeks had passed since I had made my break from Malfoy Manor and my friends had been amazing, concerned and bordering on over protective, but amazing. With a great effort, and probably a stern telling off from Hermione, the boys had dropped their massive aversion to the possibility of Draco helping me and I had stopped bringing it up. Together we had concocted the perfect plan for infiltrating Gringotts, it was, as far as we could see, relatively flawless, and we were confident in our chances of success.

Mr Olivander, Dean and Luna had left that first week of our being here, sent away to safe houses for the time being and we had all been sorry to see them go, it had been nice to spend time with Dean and Luna again, it had made things seem almost normal for a length of time, until we remembered this wasn't Hogwarts and nothing was how it had been, and Mr Olivander had made for intellectual and pleasant company, but they couldn't stay. It wasn't safe for them and it wasn't fair on Bill and Fleur to keep so many people in their house, to impose on them like we were, but they didn't seem to mind too much now that it was just the four of us and Griphook, though Bill was openly distrusting of the goblin. However, it took a lot of effort for Bill or any of us to be miserable these days; Lupin was a frequent visitor to Shell Cottage these days, after the birth of his and Tonks' son, Teddy Lupin. I smiled in genuine happiness as I remembered his last visit when Lupin had brought us another photo of Teddy and a letter from Tonks for me, I still had both of them in my bag, Tonks had told me how sorry she was that she couldn't come and see me but her baby needed her there and I couldn't argue with that. Teddy Lupin was the most beautiful little thing, a chubby, giggling baby with a shock of turquoise blue hair on his head that revealed he was just like his mummy, I thought, my heart swelling with fondness and pride for my godson. I beamed again, liking the sound of that, in acknowledgement of our friendship Tonks had named me godmother to Teddy and Lupin had chosen Harry for his godfather, the both of us were over the moon at the news and- for once I have no shame in telling you this – I cried ridiculously when I found out. I was so touched that they trusted me enough to give me such a responsibility over their child and big fat tears were rolling down my cheeks when Lupin told Hermione and Ron not to worry, that they could be godparents to the next baby. It was the first bit of genuine, none Voldemort related news we had heard in ages and it was another reason for me to beat my demons.

Thoughts of blond turncoats the furthest thing from my mind I shifted on the soft ground and focused, baby Teddies dimpled face fixed in my mind as I took another deep breath and focused on pulling a vision from the 'Great Beyond', as Trelawney was fond of calling it, using the light provided by my godson to try and guide me. With this thought dominating my mind nothing else could get through, feeling myself drift into a peaceful state I was suddenly very aware of the breeze blowing around me, of how it toyed with the strands of hair around my neck and gently caressed my forehead, it soothed me and I felt good. Because of this the shock that rocketed through me was all the more disruptive, it stunned my senses and pulled a gasp from my lips, the very next thing I felt was a breeze that was most definitely not of this world blowing across the front of my mind and I felt myself go within myself, I felt myself be pulled from this plane. When everything opened up again, when my senses restarted and my Inner Eye took in my new surroundings I found myself standing in an elegant fire lit room, comfortable looking settees surrounded a coffee table and a television sat switched off in the corner as I slowly paced backwards and forwards, gently rocking a weight in my arms and the most wonderful sense of contentment filling me.

"Bye, baby Bunting, Daddy's gone a-hunting," I heard myself sing the slow familiar song my mother had sung to me as a child, as peered down at the little bundle in my arms, feeling such a tender love that I felt my heart might break with the sheer force of it, or my cheeks might crack from the width of my smile. "Gone to get a rabbit skin, to wrap the baby Bunting in." I sang quietly hearing the soft snore of his breathing and knowing he was asleep, gently brushing a strand of fine blond hair from his face I carried on rocking him as I turned around and headed for the door, eyes only for the sleeping child in my arms until the sound of someone else reached me and I felt my heart swell with even more love and affection.

"Is he asleep?" a quiet, content masculine voice asked.

I felt myself go to look up, to smile at the man in the doorway in affirmation, but I never got the chance to do so, the Powers That Be decided that was quite enough of that and pulled me from this happy scene long before I was ready to leave, robbing me of even a glimpse of the man's face. I returned to the present with a gasp and a ragged breath, my eyes flying open wide and my heart racing in my chest, I felt shaken and it took me a long moment to collect myself. What the Hell? I thought, gulping in great lungful's of air and shaking my head at that tantalising snippet of the future, feeling frightened all of a sudden. No, I told myself resolutely, the sentiments of the vision cutting a bit close to my skin today and scaring me for some reason. Quickly I pushed them aside and closed my eyes again, gulping and trying to regulate my breathing, the wind around me was fiercer now, angry almost, but I didn't believe in omens and I would deny what I had seen if I wanted to. It was a ridiculous notion, a ridiculous hope that had sprung into my mind at the sight of that, it wouldn't have been him.

Maybe allowing myself to believe that he had tried to help me had been a bad idea, by accepting that chance I was leaving myself open to all kinds of mad, dangerous ideas. No, I told myself decidedly as I tried to centre myself again, determined to see something useful, I was right about Draco helping me and I was also right about his motives, I was sure of it, he would have let me escape if there wasn't something in it for him and I was right to carry on thinking that. Resolve coursing through me powerfully, ignited by the sting of my thoughts, I scrunched my eyes up tightly as my nails dug into my palms with my effort to reach out into the future, there wasn't the time for failure, I had to find something that would help us before it was too late, I had to keep my friends safe. Focusing every ounce of my strength, every bit of my concentration on this task, unwilling to fail, desperate to find something else other than THAT vision, I felt the wind as it blustered around me, whipping my hair back and jolting me until to my great amazement and relief another worldly breeze drifted across the front of my brain again, wiping everything else away. In an instant my world opened up again and my senses were flooded with new sights and smells and sounds. I was no longer sat in the garden at Shell Cottage, a new scene was flickering before me, and flickering was exactly what it was doing, like a fuzzy old film the quality of the vision was greatly impaired, and through squinting into the jolting, shadowed scene around me I could just about make out that I was standing in Diagon Alley. Bellatrix, tall and intimidating, stood in a bright, almost blinding light before me and an unfamiliar man stood across from her, completely hidden in an unnatural shadow, but for his outline.

"…Bellatrix? I thought your own wand was-"

The man's suspicious and probing question was cut off, the ending and answer unknown as this the vision vanished, evaporating as quick as a flash, though I strained and fought with all my might to bring it back, needing to know more than what I had been able to conjure, it was too much for me and I felt myself slip into the blackness of unconsciousness. Red and orange blurs branded the back of my eyelids as I came back around and I frowned and crinkled my nose at the assaulting force of the sun's rays as they beat down on me, making sure not to open my eyes just yet I went to sit up, only to stop abruptly when the world around me suddenly lost its stability and began to sway. Only just keeping from falling back down onto the ground I let out a furious groan and cursed under my breath, I had passed out! Bloody Hell, I had thought I might be able to stop that! But no, even for such a poor quality and strenuous vision I had fainted, and I was deeply annoyed by that. At least I saw something, I thought as I let the effects of my vision pass and tried to focus on the positives, I had called a vision forth at my will, so what if it had been barely visible and had drained me immensely, it was possible! And I had seen something, I remembered as I tentatively pulled myself all the way up into a sitting position, something useful.

"Ivy," Harry's familiar voice called out across the garden and my eyes flew open, blinking against the suddenly harsh sun light I looked around for him. I spotted my dark haired friend standing a little way off from the front door, looking at me seriously but not worriedly, which told me he hadn't seen me pass out. "It's time to go." He said as I met his gaze and felt a sobering sense of purpose wash over me as I nodded and got to my feet, knowing exactly what Harry meant. It was time to go to Gringotts.

**Author note: Yeah, not completely happy with the ending there, but I accomplished what I needed to and the length of time I've had you guys waiting is more than a bit ridiculous now, so I couldn't really put it off any longer. Hope you liked this chapter anyway :)**

**O0o0o, I have an announcement though, I am currently on 194 reviews for this fic! I find that simply amazing and would love it if we could reach 200 before my next update, do you think that would be possible, could six of you find it in your heart to review for me? Pretty please, I might even offer a prize for the person who is my 200th reviewer, or everyone who reviews my next chapter. How about a snippet of the fic I'm going to write after 'Losing Sight', how does that sound?**


	26. Thievery

**"True love is felonious… You take someone's breath away… You rob them of the ability to utter a single word… You steal a heart." — Jodi Picoult**

**Chapter twenty-six: Thievery**

**Ivy**

The grinding, scrapping sound echoed loudly in the silence of the courtyard and I felt my breath, which had been coming out in steady, measured gasps before, catch and hold in my throat as the brick of the wall in front of us moved and shifted to form an archway. It was the first time we had been to Diagon Alley in almost a year and I knew that it wouldn't be the same; that it couldn't be, like everything else in our world it would have been altered by Voldemort's dictatorship, however, I still wasn't prepared for how much it had altered. The high street that had been a constant fascination and love in my first years as a witch, which had once buzzed and teamed with life and colour and excitement, was a mere desolate shell of what it once was. Gone were the brightly coloured shop fronts, vibrant displays and the once ever present hum of happy chatter, absent was the enchanting appeal of the street, it's unique aura and even more unique patrons, and instead there was only one, long, stretching grey street, lined with derelict or dingy shops that were obviously struggling to keep open. The alley was almost empty, a few hooded figures moving as quickly as possible made their way up and down the street but none of them stopped to talk to each other, the sense of camaraderie and friendship that had once filled the air here was notably missing.

Left cold and disheartened by the sight before me I walked with the others as we stepped onto the cobbles in silence, all of us shocked into an appalled hush by the state of the place. And we had thought it was bad last year, I thought in disbelief as I passed by one of the dodgy looking stalls that now lined the street. The stall, I noticed looking back over my shoulder in disgusted interest, was owned by a smirking witch whose black hair was streaked with long white lines, the cart was covered in dirty jars and dusty boxes that upon closer inspection housed decapitated human fingers. Ron, who lagged a little behind us, was struck dumb with revulsion and fright when the old hag suddenly swept towards him, brandishing a withered and yellowed digit.

"One of Albus Dumbledore's own," she proclaimed in a low, scratchy voice, "cut from his hand by Severus Snape himself and one can only guess at the powers it holds. Tonight is a full moon; add this to any potion by the lunar light and its properties will be more than intensified." The hag ensured him as she brought the rotting finger dangerously close to Ron's face; my friend paled behind the thick moustache and beard of his disguise and looked as though he wanted to vomit.

Anger and disgust rocketed through me at the vile woman's claim, even as chills ran down my spine and I quickly took hold of Harry's hand, holding it securely to keep my obviously livid friend from attacking the hag and blowing our cover. Furious that she could boast to such a thing, something that was as horrific as it was impossible, Harry turned to look at me sharply, however, he soon adopted his new calm composure when he caught sight of the stern expression I wore, he knew I didn't condone what was happening, far from it, it made me almost as mad as him, but we had to be careful. We couldn't risk being discovered, we had to get into Gringotts and we had to do it today, there was no time left to lose and I had told them all as much today, I had the strongest and most worrying sense of urgency assaulting me, it pestered me, niggled away at my subconscious relentlessly, and I knew that time was short. So, from where we hid under the Invisibility Cloak Harry and I left this minor annoyance to the others.

In an instant the hag went from half forcing the finger into Ron's hand to quickly lowering her head and backing away as fast as her legs would carry her, a look of undeniable fear on her wrinkled face. And I knew exactly why, at that moment the pushy, creepy hag had spotted Hermione. Standing tall and haughty just beside me Hermione shot a dark look at the woman what would have struck fear into the heart of far braver beings, it was a look Bellatrix Lestrange was infamous for and Hermione had it down exactly. Looking up at my friend it was difficult to remember that it was actually Hermione standing there and not Bellatrix herself, the Polyjuice Potion, made from a single black hair Bellatrix had left on Hermione's jumper, had made a clone so physically exact of the original that it was actually terrifying.

_"You will do as I say and then I will kill you."_ the malice and the intent rang so forcefully in the remembered words that I had to shake myself to banish the fear and hatred they inspired. The wounds she had inflicted ached in memory and I had to grit my teeth against my anger, vowing that I would make her pay for what she had done.

With the immoral woman retreating fearfully at just one glare from Hermione we didn't loiter, taking our cue for the sparse shoppers we made our way quickly down the street, Harry and I moving slower than the other two as the added weight of Griphook slowed Harry down and at irregular intervals the goblin would reach out and grab at my hair and clothing to keep himself from falling. It was as one of his long fingernails scrapped my flesh and brought a hiss of indignant pain to my lips that I noticed something, my scowl slipped from my face when I realised the street wasn't as empty as I had previously thought. Homeless people, dirty and ragged, dotted the street in alarming numbers, they sat hunched over on the pavement, were wedged in doorways and lay in alleys, there were dozens of them and they stopped me in my tracks.

"What is it?" Harry whispered worriedly in my ear and when I didn't answer, when I only stood and stared at a woman dressed in mucky, tatty robes who rocked a screaming infant in her arms, he followed my gaze and voiced my question. "Who are they?"

"Muggleborns," Griphook answered and with furious tears stinging my eyes I turned to look at him, horrified, "those who aren't sent to Azkaban are left to fend for themselves, but no one will employ a Wandless and they are forced to beg for food and money."

Disgusted and feeling my heart constrict in sympathy and agony five simple words repeated hauntingly in my head, this could have been me, I thought as I looked out at them all, without Harry this could have been both mine and Hermione's fate. "And they just leave them here?" I asked as quietly as I could in my outrage, moved by this horrific sight in ways that little else had moved me so far, it was heart breaking to see people reduced to this and to know that it was outside of their control.

"The Death Eaters don't care what happens to them now, they aren't their concern, and the people are too afraid of what will happen to them if they help, so their pleas are ignored." Griphook said in a solemn voice that was devoid of any real emotion, however, as though to punctuate the goblins word's a beggar boy up ahead reached out to a passer-by, a witch with her chin pressed firmly against her chest.

"Please miss, spare me some change, I'm so hungry." He implored in a weak voice that confirmed his words but the witch, her expression distraught, didn't respond at all, she simply pulled the hem of her robes out of the man's reach and hurried onwards. I scowled at her tearfully as she passed even though she couldn't see me, I knew that I shouldn't blame her, I knew that she was just trying to protect herself, but I couldn't help it, I hated how she could stand to be so heartless and I wished Hermione didn't have hold of all our money, I wished we could do something for them.

"It's disgusting!" I spat furiously as Harry ushered us along, past the beggar boy who was now sinking back onto the curb and looking hopeless.

"I know," Harry whispered as we rushed to catch up with the others, "we'll stop this." He told me confidently and I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant, that we had to stop Voldemort in order to put an end to all this suffering, however, that didn't stop me from wanting to help these people now.

Desperate to this end I looked back over my shoulder at the boy, he had mousy blond hair but that was the only characteristic I could discern under his long locks, however, I could tell from his voice and size he couldn't be much older than us, and it felt wrong to walk away from him, from all of them. However, when I looked back I saw that he wasn't alone any more, a petit young woman with golden blonde curls was sitting by his side, a look of deep concern on her face as she discreetly handed him a small sack that could only contain gold. The blond boy showed his gratitude by reaching out and hugging her fiercely, the girl smiled brightly and wrapped her own arms around him before patting him on the back, saying a few words and getting to her feet. Still smiling, though it was small and sad now, the woman looked cautiously up and down the street before crossing as naturally as she could and heading towards the woman with the child, another sack just distinguishable by the way it was poking out the side of her cloak, in her grip. For some reason she looked oddly familiar, however, I couldn't quite place where I knew her from.

Still wondering how I knew her and feeling relief and pride for the Wizarding race as someone was bothering to help these people, I reluctantly and with renewed determination turned to face the right way. Hurrying along beside Harry I kept my expression hard and unwavering and walked with my head held high and my gaze fixed firmly and intently upon Gringotts, as the large marble dome rose up before us. Keep calm and carry on, I thought decidedly, repeating my new mantra which would have been nothing more than an optimistic new year's resolution just a year ago. It was the viewpoint that was going to get me through all this though, what had allowed me to put the events of Malfoy Manor as far behind me as I could put them for now and I was determined to stick to that. No matter how volatile and emotional I have been in the past, that ended now, for the duration of our fight against Voldemort I would be level headed and logical, no spur of the moment decisions, no running off in a tangent, only clear thoughts would pass through my head. It was with this in mind that I finally noticed another alteration to the street, a startling difference that would have shook the old me to my core and made me livid with rage and humiliation. However, as it stood and in the wake of seeing the beggars I really didn't care that much. Covering the alley, secured in every window and hiding almost every inch of grey stone were posters; posters that I had last seen in the Ministry of Magic in September and at the time had rammed home exactly what I was now. Undesirable Number 2 posters, everywhere I looked I was met with a black and white photograph of my irate self, looking defiantly out at the street with big bold letters bellow me proclaiming I was a wanted threat to security and broadcasting to the world my biggest secret, that I was a Seer.

It still stung, it still riled me that I was being painted as some great criminal by the Ministry and that everyone now knew my secret, that they knew I had lied about it all these years and kept it to myself, however, I took a deep breath and dealt with it. There were twice as many posters with Harry's face on them than mine, and he was handling this fine. If Harry could do it so could I. One look at Harry, who was walking with as much determination as I and looking exactly like a young man who held the future of the world in his hands, strained, angry and adamant, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I'd be fine.

"My children!" A hysterical sounding man cried, shocking me from my inner pep-talk and pointing accusingly at Hermione. "Where are my children? What has he done with them? You know, you know!"

Hermione looked stunned and actually quite remorseful even though there was nothing she could do, and I could say, without a shadow of a doubt, that such a sincerely apologetic look had never graced Bellatrix's face. Ron reacted instinctively to the attack on Hermione and had his wand trained on the distressed man in an instant, Harry and I were quick to do the same beneath the cloak, and I gripped the Hawthorn wand with intent, even though I knew it would be stupid to risk exposure by jinxing the poor man. My gaze fixed on the distraught wizard, who, chest rising and falling with emotion and tears flowing freely down his cheeks, was clearly distressed and was therefore unpredictable, I couldn't help but think, so much for our inconspicuous entrance, between this man and the creepy hag I don't think we could have made much more of a scene. All around us people were shuffling off as quickly as they could, heads down and desperate not to get caught up in this somehow, lest it have dire consequences, it was Bellatrix they saw there and that meant there was only one way such an act of impertinence on the part of the beggar man could be met, and I knew for a fact that Hermione wouldn't be able to hurt him. Was our cover blown already?

"Why, Madam Lestrange!" a voice called out from further down the street and I felt myself tense all the more, that voice was familiar, and not in a good way. Taking my gaze off of the unsettled man, who was no longer our biggest threat, I spotted a tall, slim wizard with bushy grey hair making his way confidently towards us.

"It's Travers," Griphook hissed to Harry and I as the man reached Hermione, who was pulling her best psycho-killer-Bellatrix look.

"And what do you want?" Hermione demanded sharply causing Travers come to a stunned stop and look dismayed, clearly he knew Bellatrix.

"He's another Death Eater!" Griphook informed us, his voice barely audible and quickly I moved forwards with Harry so he could repeat this to Hermione.

"I merely sought to greet you," Travers said and suddenly his voice registered with me, squinting I recognised the outline of his form from my blurry vision back at the cottage and realised he was the one who had been suspicious of Bellatrix having possession of her own wand. "But if my presence is not welcome…"

"No, no, not at all, Travers," Hermione covered quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice her lack of recognition. "How are you?"

"Well, I confess I am surprised to see you out and about, Bellatrix." Travers said with the voice of a man trying to catch someone out, and though that didn't necessarily mean that he knew something was wrong with us, I still kept my gaze on him firmly, looking for any indication that he knew more than he let on.

"Really? Why?" Hermione asked and cautiously confused I waited for his answer as well.

"Well," Travers said as though he were broaching an awkward topic, "I heard that the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor were confined to the house, after the ... Ah … escapes." He said and instantly my heart caught in my chest, frowning deeply I looked at the Death Eater and willed him to say more. The Malfoys were confined to the manor? They hadn't been while I had been there had they? No, I was sure that they hadn't, and that meant it was my escape that had pushed their master over the edge and brought on this punishment. And still my mind raced on. What other punishments had they been given? What was happening to Draco? Was he involved in this and if so to what extent? What were they doing to him? Catching my thoughts I quickly forced them back under control and banished every unnecessary question about HIS welfare, I didn't care what they were doing to him; one possible act of kindness didn't wipe the slate clean, not even close.

"The Dark Lord forgives those who have served him most faithfully in the past," Hermione said easily and without falter, impressing me in spite of my self-admonishment, "perhaps your credit is not as good as mine is, Travers."

Travers gave Hermione a look of offense but his brows smoothed out and he looked less suspicious, so Hermione had obviously played her part well. It was then that he noticed the man Ron had stunned as soon as the Death Eater had approached and his lip curled as he nodded at him in disgust. "How did it offend you?" Travers asked.

"It doesn't matter, it won't do so again." Hermione assured him and Travers looked apathetic to her disgust.

"Some of these Wandless can be troublesome," he told her in a vile manor that had my blood boiling, "while they do nothing but beg I have no objection, but one of them actually asked me to plead their case to the Ministry last week. 'I'm a witch, sir, I'm a witch, let me prove it to you!' as if I'd actually give her my wand-" Travers said as though the idea was ludicrous, "but whose wand are you using at the moment, Bellatrix? I heard your own was-" Travers said, repeating the words he had spoken earlier in my vision and watching them I waited for Hermione's response.

" – do not speak of it!" Hermione snapped, as though the thought repulsed her, "I do not wish to think of where my wand is, the mere thought is a disgrace. Thankfully I was able to procure another wand to replace it." Hermione said, bringing a smile to my lips by the way she dodged the line that would have tripped us up, I felt pride fill me that I had been able to warn her of this and that for once we were prepared. I would control my visions yet.

"Whose?" Travers asked curiously.

"My sister's," was Hermione's response, she spoke with such a ferocious edge, as though daring Travers to mock her for that, "it has not the same qualities as mine but it does well enough, as would any wand from our family."

"I have no doubt," Travers agreed, reluctant to dispute with her, as anyone would be with the lunatic that was Bellatrix Lestrange, "who is your friend?" he asked moving swiftly on, "I do not recognise him."

"This is Dragomir Despard," Hermione said, referring to Ron as his fictional, foreign character, which would allow him to raise the least suspicion and ensure he wasn't recognised or his presence questioned. "He speaks very little English, but he is in sympathy with the Dark Lords aims. He has travelled here from Transylvania to see our new regime."

"Indeed? How do you do, Dragomir?" Travers asked, half extending his hand but seeming to think better of it.

" 'Ow you?" Ron asked in keeping with his cover and Travers asked Hermione what she was doing in Diagon Alley at this time, keeping to the truth wherever possible she told him she wanted to go to Gringotts and Travers, much to our dismay, revealed he was here for the same reason, managing to get in an insult for the Goblins of the bank just for good measure, and so, with Travers offering to escort Hermione, we all headed down the street.

"We're going to need to shake him," I whispered to Harry, my gazed fixed upon Travers, walking ahead of us, thinking of what a threat he posed.

"I know," was Harry's muttered response, "but we might not have to, when we get to Gringotts he'll go his own way anyway."

Still cautious and serious I nodded in response but gripped the Hawthorn wand tightly as we approached the white marble steps of the bank, and as we ascended and I looked up at the impressive columned building I was stuck by a sudden rush of childlike wonder. Gringotts had always fascinated me, a structurally beautiful building guarded by the first none human magical race I had ever seen and hiding an exciting and deadly secret beneath its polished floors, I had longed for a vault of my own for as long as I could remember. I had been in the bank countless times to convert Muggle money with my parents but it wasn't the same, I had always envied Harry and Ron the rickety cart ride down to their vaults and loved to hear their stories of what was bellow to stunning building. Well, I thought as we reached the landing that looked out over the whole of Diagon Alley, you're finally going to get to see what it's like down there, just not under the circumstances you wanted. Determination coursing through me as we drew ever closer to committing the unthinkable deed, one thing I'd certainly never thought I'd do in my life, we had a little problem with the security wizards who flanked the front doors, however with a confudo charm from both Harry and I it was resolved and we were passing under the banks poetic warning to potential thieves in no time.

With Hermione, Ron and an oblivious Travers taking the lead Harry, Griphook and I followed them into the main hall invisibly; it was as we stepped out onto the beautiful marble floors, our footsteps echoing in the great domed room, that I felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over me. Stopping abruptly I threw out an arm that forced Harry to do the same, concerned he turned to face me quickly, his green eyes questioning and for once I knew exactly what was happening.

"It's a vision," I breathed urgently as the room started to spin unnaturally around me and I swayed on my feet, reaching out to grip Harry's arm tightly and keep myself on my feet as my stomach rolled and my head span. No, not now!

"Don't let her fall!" Griphook hissed as I watched the walls start to sway as well, drifting backwards slightly until I staggered and I realised it was me that was moving. Desperately I tried to fight it, tried to control my sight, but the Powers That Be were having none of it and a other worldly breeze swept almost violently across the front of my mind, wiping away everything else and robbing me of my senses.

Suspended in darkness for a moment I felt the vision brewing beyond the blackness but saw and felt nothing but that until my Inner Eye flew open and my vision burst forth. Colour exploded all around me, glittering in the flickering light and shimmering beautifully; silver, emerald, ruby, sapphire and gold filled every inch of space around me; however despite this stunning sight I still felt cautious and unsure. I couldn't make out a single solid thing, the shapes around me were just fuzzy outlines and blurs, indistinguishable, just as my forced vision at the cottage had been and that frustrated me.

"Harry," Hermione's familiar voice asked as a black clad figure with bushy brown hair stepped into my line of sight and seemed, almost, to reach for something, though I had to strain to see even that, "could this be - ? Argh!" she screamed as though something had hurt her and quickly withdrew her hand. In cannon with her movement I felt as though I were being pulled back, wretched from this vision I was thrown abruptly back into the present and swaying with disorientation I felt my head press against something soft and warm as I tried to collect my thoughts and stop the room from spinning. Adjusted I slowly lifted my head and realised as I did that the soft thing I had been resting against was Harry's chest, looking up into the anxious eyes of my friend I realised that he had caught me when my vision stuck and kept me from falling by gripping my arms tightly.

"What was it?" he asked and pulling myself up so I supported my own weight I shook my head.

"It doesn't matter yet," I told him, knowing what I was saying was right, "we'll deal with it when we have to."

Harry looked unsure and frowning in reluctance he looked as though he might argue until I looked at him, seriously and pleadingly and said, "Trust me." My voice barely above a whisper and my friend nodded his agreement.

In the time it had taken me to have and recover from my vision Hermione had made her way to one of the many tall podiums that lined the room, with Ron by her side and Travers talking to a goblin a few desks down, she was trying to gain access to Bellatrix's vault without her key.

The goblin, who had a pair of tiny gold spectacles perched on his long, slender nose and tufts of fine white hair around his ears, looked seriously uncomfortable as he addressed Hermione, who he thought to be the infamous Bellatrix.

"You have….identification?" his asked, somewhat warily and Griphook grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me closer to Harry.

"Identification? I – I have never been asked for identification before!" Hermione exclaimed in a good show of outrage, though it did capture Travers attention, but mercifully he was securely inside a cart and about to zoom off by this point.

"They know!" Griphook exclaimed in a whisper, "They must have been warned there might be an imposter!"

"Your wand will do, Madam." The goblin assured Hermione, who looked reluctant, as she didn't actually possess Bellatrix's wand, however Griphook was right, there was a far greater problem, in order to make such a request in the first place they must have been warned of this possibility, and that, was a really bad thing. Trying to decide on the best course of action and wishing I'd seen THIS coming I shared a look with an equally frustrated Harry as an unsure Hermione handed over her borrowed wand.

"Act now, act now," Griphook hissed at us, "the Imperious Curse!" Startled I watched as Harry did as Griphook suggested, unable to believe he had actually done it but seeing the necessity, though even still, I wasn't happy about it.

"Imperio!" Harry whispered, pointing his wand at the goblin behind the desk just as he accepted Hermione's wand.

"Ah, you have borrowed your sister's wand for the occasion, Madam Lestrange." The goblin said as he examined it and I watched as Hermione looked surprised by this but rolled with the punches and accepted his words without question, even though she hadn't a clue what Harry had done or why the goblin was proclaiming the wand was Narcissa Malfoy's when it clearly wasn't.

With only a slightly alarming opposition from a few of the other goblins, who told the Imperioused Bogrod that they had special instructions regarding the vault of Lestrange and that we couldn't go down there, though this was resolved by Harry who used Bogrod to talk our way out if it, for now, the six of us made our way towards where the carts were stationed. The threat posed by the goblins' suspicion made us stop and think about whether or not we would chance carrying on, however, we had gotten this far and we decided to keep going. Safely hidden behind a closed door Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak off the two of us and Griphook jumped down off Harry's shoulders, using my neck as a support one last time to help him lower himself to the ground and causing me to wince and grit my teeth to keep from saying anything. With that we all clambered quickly into the cart. Sat uncomfortably between Hermione, or rather Bellatrix, and Griphook, while Harry, Ron and Bogrod sat in the front seats, there was very little time for anticipation before the cart was shooting of with a lurch. As we navigated through the twisting, lamp lit tunnels I was given a chance to feel my excitement again, in spite of everything it was still brilliant to be down here and my eyes were wide and childlike as I took in every inch of what I could see and revelled in the dropping sensation in the pit of my stomach, every time the cart went down a level. But as with most pleasant things of late, this didn't last long, and I was once again reminded of the gravity of the situation when the world spun around me, a very disconcerting feeling when you were traveling at incredible speeds in what was essentially a rollercoaster cart, and another worldly breeze drifted across the forefront of my mind, wiping away this rushing scene.

Sound reached me before sight as my vision exploded into view, a deafening roar that seemed to shake the tunnel around me sounded and my vision-self pressed her hands against her ears to block it out and screwed her eyes tightly shut as a reaction. However, when I opened my eyes I saw only blurry colours and outlines and a part of me, the part that was aware this was a vision, cursed, damn it, not again! The quality of my vision was appalling, so cloudy that only the basic outlines of what I saw were distinguishable and I couldn't help but wonder, somewhat fearfully, if I had ruined my Sight, if I had somehow damaged my Inner Eye by trying to force my visions, and that thought terrified me. However, I didn't dwell on it for long, fear and exhilaration thrilled my vision-self's heart as the enormous white creature filling the dark tunnel before me reared its head and a blinding burst of yellow flames erupted from its mouth. I saw nothing more though, no matter how bad the quality, this was all I got of the future before I was plucked from the vision and returned to the present. Coming awake with a jolt I realised that I was slumped against Hermione, however, I couldn't move until the dizziness had passed and the whooshing of the cart rushing through the tunnels wasn't helping. It was the dragon, I thought as I stared at the back of Ron's head, the one that I had seen in my vision at Malfoy Manor and was here in Gringotts somewhere, for my Inner Eye to keep reminding me of it like that it had to be important, I realised as I retook control of myself and slowly sat up. Hermione was looking down at me anxiously.

"What did you see?" she asked, desperate for some news on the outcome of this attempt and for some surety, however, she didn't get any, and as I went to open my mouth my words died in my throat as Griphook bellowed,

"No!"

Afraid I quickly turned and felt my heart stop dead when I spotted a crystal blue waterfall pouring over the track mere meters in front of us, we had no way of stopping, no chance of breaking in time, we rushed through the water at full speed and it stung as it soaked us to the bone, filling our eyes and mouths and causing me to splutter. There wasn't any time to process that though, as the second the water touched it we were thrown from the cart and sent soaring through the air, my scream caught in my throat and my mind scrambled frantically for a solution as I heard our cart smash against the rock of the tunnel and crumple. Mercifully, Hermione saved us, she screamed a spell at the last minute and we landed painlessly and weightlessly on the tunnel floor.

"C – Cushioning Charm," Hermione explained shakily as Ron helped her to her feet, and I felt my heart sink as I pushed my soaping hair out of my eyes and realised that Hermione looked like herself again, that the potion that made her appear as Bellatrix had been reversed. Ron too, was once again his usual self, Hermione's minor vanity charms vanished.

"What happened?" I asked as I pushed myself to my feet, slipping a little in the puddle I stood in while Hermione and Ron also realised the chances to their appearance.

"The Thief's Downfall!" Griphook exclaimed as he clambered to his feet beside Harry, "it washes away all enchantment, all magical concealment! They know there are imposters in Gringotts, they have set off defences against us!" suitably alarmed and anxious to get pressing on we readied ourselves to leave as Harry put Bogrod back under the Imperious Curse, which had been lifted by The Thief's Downfall, as Griphook explained we would need him. Hermione meanwhile, forward thinking as always, pointed Bellatrix's wand at the waterfall and cast a Shield Charm that sent the water shooting down the passageway and blocked it off to others.

As ready as we would ever be, we wasted no time in carrying on down the tunnel, Griphook leading the way and assuring us that we wouldn't be long. Cautious and feeling unsettled by the struggle we were having and the difficulty of getting even this far, I was feeling less optimistic than before until we rounded a corner and all such thoughts were driven from my head by an infinitely more pressing one. Filling the passageway and tethered to the ground intimidatingly close to us, the huge, white, scaly beast blocked the way to several deep, ancient looking vaults and shocked me to a stop at the sight of it.

"Err, Ivy," Ron stuttered in dull panic, "is that the dragon from your vision?"

"Yes," I gasped, stunned to see the dragon in the flesh and surprised that we had come across it so soon, I had always felt it would be relevant later on, not yet. Gulping down the lump in my throat and swallowing the fear that had sprung up at the sight of the sheer size and power of the dragon, I took a tentative step forwards, struck by something else in its appearance. The great white dragon, which had always seemed to fierce and frightening in my visions, seemed less so now, curled up and growing in the passageway, it was a chained beast and still deadly, but it looked beaten, downtrodden somehow. It moved its head and I noticed vivid red lines marring its face.

"It's partially blind," Griphook told us, "but even more savage for that. However, we have a means to control it. It has learned what to expect when the Clankers come. Give them to me." Griphook commanded and Ron passed him the small bag he had picked up after we were thrown from the cart. Griphook took several small, metal instruments from the velvet bag and handed one to each of us, I inspected mine with a sense of disgust, even though I didn't know what it did yet, I could imagine and I didn't like what I thought. Griphook told us that the dragon associated pain with the sound of the Clankers rattling and instructed us to shake them, reluctantly and with revulsion I did as he asked, thinking that Hagrid would be horrified by this as the cringe inspiring ring of the Clankers echoed out, rebounding off the tunnel walls and causing the dragon to roar in agony and back away. I felt like rubbish as I watched its fearful retreat.

"Make him press his hand to the door!" Griphook instructed and Harry used the control of the Imperious Curse to make Bogrod wander over to the door and press his small hand against the wood. The door melted away, dissolving from the point of Bogrod's hand outwards and revealing the shimmering, jewel filled room that had haunted my visions for weeks now and filled me with dread at the mere sight of it.

"Be cautious," I warned them as we approached the vault, "she's bound to have some kind of protection in place and The Powers That Be wouldn't have kept showing me this if it wasn't important."

"We know, Ivy." Ron said placating me and I turned to face them, adamant that they understand my apprehension.

"No," I said sternly, trying to convey the gravity of this, "you don't. This place IS guarded by enchantment, don't touch anything, I've seen what will happen if you do, the objects will burn you if you touch them."

"Well that's going to make finding anything difficult." Ron said irritably as we stepped through the doorway and into the gold filled room.

"We'll think of something," Harry said determinedly, though he lost a lot of that when the vault suddenly shut behind us, blocking out the light of the passage and causing everyone but Griphook to jump in fright, we were all so on edge.

"Merlin I hope so," I muttered unhelpfully, looking over my shoulder into the darkness behind me where I knew the vault door was.

"No matter, Bogrod will be able to release us!" Griphook growled irritably from somewhere in the blackness. "Light your wands, can't you? And hurry, we have very little time!"

"Lumos!" I heard Harry cast and following his lead, Ron, Hermione and I did the same, illuminating the gold filled chamber and causing the many jewels to wink and glimmer when the light hit them. Peering out at the vault, which looked exactly as it had in my visions, I didn't hold out too much hope, the room was filled with all manner of precious items ranging from everyday coins to an emerald incrusted suit of armour and including several tiaras, headbands and cups, any one of them, or none of them, could be a Horcrux.

"Remember," I warned again as I stepped forwards, my wand held aloft as I peered out into the furthest reaches of the room, trying to see what was hidden in the shadows, "don't touch anything." I said, recalling my blurry vision from earlier in which Hermione had hurt herself trying to touch something in the vault, however, the room was so tightly packed with treasure that there was little space to move and Ron accidentally nudged one of the goblets spilling out across the floor. Ron yelped in pain as the goblet burned him and yanked his seared foot away as twenty new, identical goblets popped into being.

"What the Hell?" Ron exclaimed as the four of us stared at the new goblets in shock, our hearts plummeting, but still I held on fast to my determination, no matter how hopeless this looked we had to try, we had to keep going.

"Stand still," said Hermione, clutching Ron's arm and pulling him towards her, "don't move!"

"They have added Gemino and Flagrante Curses!" Griphook explained furiously, clearly no more pleased with this turn of events than we were, as our situation grew more and more desperate. "Everything you touch will burn and multiply, but the copies will be worthless- and if you continue to handle the treasure, you will eventually be crushed by the weight of expanding gold!"

Oh you have got to be kidding me, I thought, backing up so that the four of us stood almost back to back with Griphook at our side as we scanned the room for anything that bore the crests of Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. I could appreciate the irony for potential thieves, to be killed by the one thing you wanted more than anything else, immense wealth, but honestly, this seriously didn't do us any favours.

"Just look around!" Harry instructed as my gaze skimmed over sceptres and crowns and every other kind of treasure imaginable but landed on nothing of any use to us. "Remember, the cup's small and gold, it's got a badger engraved on it, two handles – otherwise see if you can spot Ravenclaw's symbol anywhere, the eagle-"

We searched, desperately turning out wands on every corner of the room and hunting franticly for a possible Horcrux but it was no use, we couldn't see anything, and it was impossible to move enough to search properly without touching any of the cursed gold. The clang of metal falling echoed all around as each of us brushed against the treasure and sent it tumbling forth, my own hand throbbed painfully from where I had skimmed a single ruby, and caused dozens of the same to come cascading onto the floor. There wasn't any space to move, the increasingly warm and claustrophobic room was causing each of us to pant with exertion and stress, however, that didn't matter as, as soon as Harry exclaimed the words, "It's here, it's up there!" I knew it would all be worth it.

Reacting instantly Ron, Hermione and I turned to face the direction Harry was pointing and spotted a delicate, golden cup twinkling in the wand light, the crest of the gentle school founder branded clearly against the front, however, our excitement dimmed somewhat when we realised it rested high up on a shelf that was too far away for even Ron to reach, even if there hadn't been piles of cursed treasure underneath it.

"How the hell are we going to get up there without touching anything?" Ron asked as he turned to look at us, a look of desperation on each of our faces as we struggled to overcome this latest obstacle. After all we had been though, after every struggle and success of this year, not one of us was prepared to give up now, to fall at such a seemingly minor hurtle, but under the stress and fear of everything no one knew what to do. Forgetting everything Griphook had told us about Gringotts Hermione tried to summon the cup but of course it didn't work, and watching all this I took several very deep, calming breaths. It was difficult, my heart was beating wildly in my chest and I twitched with the urge to act, to do something useful, but I forced myself to still and pushed everything from my mind as I closed my eyes. I had to try, I thought as I stood there, I had to find a way, to See a way, but no vision would come, try as I might I couldn't summon up so much as a feeling about what we ought to do and that infuriated me more than I could say. Why couldn't I be useful? I exclaimed in an internal rage as a screwed up my tightly closed eyes and continued to focus, why couldn't a control this stupid 'gift'?

Struggling with my inadequacies I barely heard Harry suggest we use the sword to hook the cup with, so as to prevent any more burns, but hear him I did and I was forced to admit defeat and open my eyes, if my Sight wouldn't cooperate I was going to have to help them think of a way out of this myself, as it seemed I couldn't rely on the future. Hermione pulled out her beaded bag and plumaged through it for the sword, however, as she searched I felt my ears prickle at the sound of clanking beyond the vault door, growing louder, closer. They were coming, I thought with dread before shifting nearer to my friends, looking for some way to help and refusing to mention what I'd heard, odds were they could hear it too and the last thing we needed now way to panic. With the sword in hand Harry looked over at the cup and frowned, realising that even with it he was going to be too small to reach it, we all were, it was simply too high up, the clanking outside grew even louder and I watched as Ron and Hermione exchanged a look of terror and Hermione made her decision, acting swiftly the drew Bellatrix's wand and pointed it at Harry.

"Levicorpus!" she whispered and Harry was suddenly yanked up into the air, dangling by his ankle Harry was reaching for the cup but that was all I saw as one misplaced movement from him sent the emerald encrusted suit of armour tumbling down, multiplying as it fell right towards us. Ron, Hermione, Griphook and I staggered backwards, Bogrod stayed in a mesmerised stance where he was but mercifully avoided hitting the armour, we weren't so lucky, each of us stumbled across the little space and collided with cursed treasure, landing backwards on a silver shield I yelped as my back burned agonisingly and copied shields popped into existence all around me, catching my bear arms and multiply further. Horrified I pushed myself back to my feet but found there was nowhere left to stand, Hermione, Ron, Griphook and Bogrod were all wading through the rising tide of treasure, gold scolding my knees I reached out for Hermione, who took my hand in hers and clutched it tightly, linking me to her, Ron and the goblins, but that was all we could do. Hermione tried to cast spells to protect us but it was futile, nothing would work, no spell that moved any object would work in here, and gripping the useless Hawthorn ward in my sweaty hand I hissed as the gold made it to my waist, stinging every inch of skin it could reach.

"We need to get to the door!" I half screamed as a sceptre fell on my arm, resting and burning there until I managed to shake it off.

"We can't!" Hermione cried, nodding at Ron, who was using his free hand to try and keep Bogrod above the tide of gold, which was now taller than him.

"Griphook!" I called out, unable to see the other goblin anywhere, and not about to just leave him to suffocate under all this wretched wealth I dug through the gold searching for him, ignoring the scolding of my skin after my initial scream. Not a moment too soon I felt Griphook's blistered fingers beneath my own and pulled him to the surface, straining against his wait and the agony burning every inch of me.

"Liberacorpus!" Harry shouted from above, freeing himself from Hermione's spell and landing on the mountain of treasure with a crash and a yelp as it burned away at its new victim. The sword flew out of Harry's grip when he landed and he yelled for someone to get it. Despite his scorched state Griphook, the lightest of us, scrabbled over the treasure and snatched up the sword. However, that was all I saw with regards to the sword as at that moment, covered almost to the neck in searing treasure and in agony that was surely what the Cruiciatus Curse was based on, I felt my head spin.

"Oh, Merlin, no," I whispered as a wave of nausea hit me and the golden, glimmering room, with its tumbling treasure and stabbing agony, revolved around me. Hermione, whose hand I still clutched, turned to look at me, however I knew there was nothing that could be done, it was going to happen, a vision was going to come now, while we were all fighting for our lives, and a gasp I felt another worldly breeze drift across the front of my mind, and my vision claimed me.

I was numb; in the initial blackness of my vision I couldn't feel a thing, the jewels and coins and treasures that scolded my skin couldn't be felt here and for that at least, I was grateful. Suspended in the darkness for mere seconds I felt my vision brewing just beyond my sight and then in a massive explosion of sensation and feeling my vision burst forth. I panted, sweat clinging to my grimy skin I gasped and struggled to force air into my lungs raced forwards, I saw only in tunnel vision, focusing entirely on my destination and not the corridors I ran through, the only thought in my head was reaching the seventh floor, I HAD to get there. My legs ached, my chest burned and my entire body throbbed from exhaustion but still I pushed myself forwards, none of that mattered, I would heal, but if I didn't get up there in time than he wouldn't. I had been in this position before, racing to save him, and this time I wouldn't fail. I saw all of this in perfect clarity, this vision wasn't cloudy or blurry, clear, sharp lines made up this one, but that wasn't all, it wasn't just the sights and sounds that were intensified, by emotions, my desperation, my terror, and another feeling I wasn't prepared to put into words but made me feel like I was being suffocated, rocked through me as I ran, and ran, I felt them so strongly and with such vividness it was hard to remember it was just a vision, that it wasn't happening. I have to get to him, my vision self-thought franticly as I reached a corner and threw my hand out to grip the wall and propel myself onwards that might faster. It was as I did this, as I pushed myself on that I was abruptly yanked from the vision, from this desperate situation, and thrown into another one.

Landing in the present with a gasp my eyes flew open and I found myself staring up at a dark, stone ceiling, my arms and legs burning as they rested against cursed treasure and the sensation of someone trying to lift me and pull me out of the way. The world was still spinning around me so I could only lie there, on top of a pile of gold while I waited for myself to recover, wondering, what on Earth had happened. Someone else had other ideas though, and while I scowled at the ceiling trying to figure out how I had gotten out of the vault, I felt someone tugging on my arm and pushing me up by the shoulder, sitting up a little under both my efforts and theirs I spotted Hermione, angry red marks covering her hands, face and neck and she put all her effort into getting me to my feet. Sensing her urgency I forced myself up, regardless of how I still felt unsteady and nauseous.

"Come on, Ivy!" Hermione urged as I staggered to my feet and she pulled my forwards, away from the pile of gold, looking back over my shoulder I saw how it was all spilling out of the vault through the open door and how we had gotten out.

"Hermione," I said, turning back to look at her and spotting Harry and Ron standing in the middle of the tunnel, both as burnt as Hermione and both casting stunning spells down the passageway, where dozens of furious goblins were running towards us, "what happened?" I asked, completely disorientated.

Still pulling me along and out of harm's way, Hermione answered, "Griphook took the sword, he ran for the door and opened it before taking off down the tunnel shouting that we were thieves, he's betrayed us." She told me and stunned but not really surprised I looked at her.

"And the cup?" I asked, sure that Harry had had it when he fell but clueless about after that.

"Harry still has it," she confirmed as we reached the boys' side, gripping the Hawthorn wand tightly I stopped where I was, looked down the tunnel at the approaching goblins and took a breath, head held high I knew this wasn't over yet, that getting out would not be easy. But what ever was? I asked myself, taking aim at the nearest goblin, but we had the cup now, that was one more Horcrux, and all that remained was to get out of here and find a way to destroy it, certainly something worth fighting for.

"Stupefy!"

**Author note: phew, wow, I feel exhausted now, lol. To be honest with you guys, I really didn't want to do this in two parts, but, with any luck this will all work out for the best and I'll get enough into next chapter to be happy with the progress. Sorry this took so long, I've been a bit busy since I last updated and I have a few bits of news for you.**

**First of all, I've added a new chapter to Foresight, the prequel to Seeing, so, if you haven't checked that out yet and would like to, now you know.**

**I've started work experience at a local publishing house; it only publishes true crime, war novels and none-fiction, but its experience!**

**And most importantly and most time consuming (but definitely worth it.), I've started a collab with Fer Frie D, which I am incredibly excited about, and will be keeping you guys posted on as it develops. It involves some more Pre Seeing Ivy, but Fer Frie D and I hope to do some more varied stuff in the future.**

**Also, we hit 200 reviews last chapter! Yay, Losing Sight stands at 203 reviews at the moment and I'm thrilled, honestly, such a number was beyond my wildest dreams when I first started writing on here, so I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who reviewed. I know that I said I'd send a preview of the story I'm uploading after Losing Sight to the person who was my 200th reviewer, however that Aoi (thanks so much sweetie :D) and because she reviewed anonymously there was no way to send her it, but, I've decided instead to add the preview to the end of this fic, that way everyone can see it. Again, thanks everyone, I love you all and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. x**


	27. Fear

**Chapter twenty-seven: Fear**

**Draco**

Reluctantly and with his head held high in furious defiance, Draco ascended the steps to the Headmasters office after Snape. He had been avoiding the strangely observant professor, who had taken a sudden interest in Draco's affairs, ever since his return to Hogwarts. From the moment Draco had set foot on school soil Snape had been sending him letters and summons to discuss what had happened at the Manor over the Easter Holidays, all of which Draco had blatantly ignored, refusing to be called the Snape's side with a click of the fingers like a House Elf, despite his new position at the bottom of Voldemort's ranks. However Snape had finally managed to corner him, and there was nothing else he could do to avoid him now.

A tense silence took up the space between Draco and his former mentor, filling the air with everything that had happened these past few years and making Draco hate Snape for no clear reason, he only knew that he resented the position Snape now held and his indifference to Draco and Ivy's suffering, to what was going on around him. Draco had once been oblivious to it all, and if he was perfectly honest there was a lot that he didn't really care about, but even he couldn't help but see the injustice and terrors that were all around them, and Snape didn't care about any of that. Stopping on the landing and waiting while Snape opened the door, Draco cast his gaze away from the Headmasters black-clad back and couldn't help but remember the last time he had followed someone up here. He had visions of himself and Ivy, dangerously close to one and other as he backed her up against the door, he had raced up the steps after her and how he and she had argued when he had reached her. Both of them had been fresh out of the events of Boxing Day last year and still stinging from the conflict of that day, Draco desperate to make sure she wouldn't tell his secret and Ivy still seething from his betrayal. Recalling all that Draco couldn't help but be stuck by how, despite all that had changed and all that had happened since, the essentials of their relationship were still the same as they were that day, she hated him and he didn't have the first idea what to do to rectify that. This thought didn't exactly improve his mood and Draco knew no good would come from his presence here.

Snape opened the door and swept inside; keeping his expression tight in a visible display of his annoyance Draco followed him in and the tense silence continued until Snape finally spoke.

"Take a seat, Draco." he instructed curtly as he strode forwards, conjured a black wooden chair and set it down before his desk. He didn't look back at Draco as he took his own seat in front of Dumbledore's portrait, and between that and his obvious hostility Draco knew he was in trouble about something. What does it matter? Draco thought carelessly as he scowled and remained firmly where he stood by the door, it wasn't possible to be in a worse position than he was now; there was nothing else any of them could do to him.

"I'd rather stand," Draco retorted in an even but icy tone as he eyed the Headmaster with disrespect, before looking away again disgustedly, until he spotted the Pensieve and his expression softened.

"Take a seat," Snape repeated, looking up at Draco with his hard black eyes and making sure that he knew that Snape wasn't impressed, that he wasn't messing around, however, this had no effect on Draco and he remained where he was. "We have much to discuss." The older wizard said ominously and Draco felt a jolt of genuine fear run through him that he quickly repressed, not seeing the point in being afraid of the tired, stressed looking man before him.

Draco knew he was in trouble though, and he knew that it could be for one of several reasons, the chief among which being that Snape had somehow found out he had told Anna and her friend to run last night rather than turn them in, his shoddy attitude of late, or, most likely, the fact that he had, quite clearly, let Ivy escape last month. And none of these topics, the latter especially, were what Draco wanted to talk about. Making his displeasure clearly known, though he knew no one gave two hoots about what he wanted now, Draco folded his arms across his chest and looked impatiently down at Snape behind the desk, raising a patronisingly querying blond brow out of habit and because it was sure to irritate Snape, and that was one of the few pleasures left to Draco. The show of impudence had the desired reaction and Snape, who sat ramrod straight in his chair, flexed his fingers in a fisting motion and the muscle above his eye twitched. The look on the former Potions Master's face would have been enough to terrify half of the 'fearless' lions of Gryffindor House but Draco, so used to the man before him didn't find him intimidating in the least, only troubling. It was more than just expecting a punishment, that had Draco feeling wary, there was something new, something heavy and cloaked in Snape's tired, edgy expression and Draco knew it didn't bode well for him, it made him want to shift and move away like he knew an awkward conversation was coming. Just what exactly did Snape bring him here to talk about? Draco asked himself, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer to that.

"You are hardly in a position to be impertinent, Draco," Snape reprimand him in a voice that clearly said Draco ought to watch himself, "the Dark Lord will hardly need persuading you aren't worth the trouble of keeping alive." He said chillingly, hitting Draco with a dark, piercing stare that had about as much effect on a reckless Draco as his words.

"I can be as impertinent as I like," Draco said brazenly, hardly caring any more what Snape thought of him, "no one is going to kill me before the Dark Lord has had the chance to 'test my loyalties', not unless they have a death wish themselves. And besides," Draco added with sinister nonchalance, "it's not like I can fall any further out of favour."

"You think you can spot the Dark Lords test that easily?" Snape snapped, leaning forwards on the desk, emoted by what he saw as Draco's suicidal disregard for his own life, "it could be now for all you know and you wouldn't have a clue!" Snape hissed, trying to make the young blond see sense, "if you don't desist in this self-destructive behaviour, you will sign your own death warrant!"

"And if I do that is my business, not yours," Draco snapped, not about to be told what to do, not by Snape who had everything he had ever wanted, who couldn't even begin to understand how Draco felt, how he was frustrated and agonised and ecstatic all at once, "you were freed of your vow last June, so you needn't fear my untimely death!"

Snape's narrowed gaze widened at the last and he looked livid, in fact, if Draco hadn't know better he would have said that Snape almost looked offended by his words. "True though that may be," Snape said, in a calm, steady voice that was more ominous than his shouts, "you will find that it is very much my business when you sneak into my office," Draco suppressed a groan and scowled, knowing one of the suddenly awake and eavesdropping portraits must have told on him, "and use the Pensieve without my permission, only to then run off like some love-struck fool and help the Muggleborn Jones to escape."

Draco said nothing, he only stood there and glared at Snape who was clearly waiting for him to say something, to snap and yell a confession or his story, but that wasn't going to happen, they had gotten to the real reason Snape had been trying so hard to talk to him this past month and he wasn't going to give him what he wanted. He wasn't going to say what he had been doing in the Pensieve that day, those memories were things he shared only with Ivy and he would be damned and mowed over by a dozen rampaging Hippogriffs before he told Snape what he had seen. Snape was determined though, and looking increasingly strained and harassed Snape sat back in his chair and surveyed Draco with his lips tightening into a thin line of annoyance.

"I know…" Snape started to say, his reluctance apparent in his tight tone of voice and the way he no longer met Draco's glacial gaze, however, Snape didn't get the chance to tell Draco whatever it was he knew, and there was a thousand alarming possibilities there that had Draco alert and listening, though still throwing contemptuous looks at the Headmaster. Before Snape could force out another word heavy, hurried footsteps sounded outside, slapping noisily against the staircase, a second later a sweaty Amycus Carrow burst through the office door, leaning on the wood heavily and panting as though he couldn't breathe. Draco made no attempt to hide the way his lip curled in disgust at the sight of the vile Death Eater.

"Snape!" Carrow wheezed urgently, his ample chest rising and falling with his desperate gasps, "you've," he puffed, "gotta come, there's been a," wheeze, "break in, at the Lestrange vault!" Carrow spluttered and Snape was on his feet in an instant.

"Need I ask who?" Snape asked irritably as he swept around his desk and started towards the door, Draco, who was no longer looking at Carrow in disgust and hatred, was watching the fat wizard with a furious desperation, desperate for an answer to Snape's question.

"It's Potter," Carrow said and Draco felt his heart drop, Ivy, she had to be there too, there was no doubt about it, she went wherever Potter did and now she was once again in danger, "come on, we've gotta go!"

Frantic underneath his cracking calm exterior Draco was ushered towards the door by Snape, at a complete and utter loss as to what he could do, he hadn't the authority to leave the castle on this mission and he didn't know a way of getting out other than the main way, but he had to do something, if Ivy was still in Gringotts when the Death Eaters got there she was done for. His mind was spinning wildly, desperately searching for a way to help her but he couldn't think of any, and Draco was halfway hysterical by the time Snape had him and Carrow out on the landing and was shutting the door behind him.

"I will take care of this," he assured an anxious and still panting Carrow, who looked as though he might pass out at any second, before he turned to Draco, looked as though he wanted to say something but stopped himself, "this recklessness needs to stop."

**Ivy**

"See anything useful?" Ron yelled as the four of us, one defensive line against the oncoming army of goblins, began to edge our way backwards, shooting stunning spells as we went.

"Stupefy!" I cried again, my hair falling messily forwards and covering half my eye, causing me to have to jerk my head agitatedly to knock it back, "not really," I called in response to Ron, over the sounds of shouted spells, booming blasts and the slapping sound of goblins footsteps echoing chillingly in the tunnel. Merlin have mercy, there must have been every goblin in Gringotts down here after us.

"What are we going to do?" Hermione asked as she took aim at the passage wall, trying to bring a section down to protect us from the goblins, but there was far too many of them now, they were almost reaching us and each one had a magic of their own which was far more effective than ours down here.

"I have a suggestion," I shouted, thinking not of my latest vision that I really didn't dare to contemplate right now, but instead of on older one, one I had had two weeks ago. "Run." I said, jogging backwards and grapping old of Ron's, who was nearest to me, arm to pull him with me.

No one disagreed with me, abandoning our useless and futile battle, however, the only way we had left to run was a dead end and currently occupied by a beaten dragon, that didn't deter Harry though, urging us to keep going he ran towards the bleached beast, causing my heart to jump up into my throat in fear, until Harry turned his wand on the dragons shackles and I understood. "Oh no," I whispered, realising now what my vision meant, why the dragon had seemed so important and why it hadn't felt right when I had seen it earlier, this was why the dragon was significant, why I had needed to see it.

"This way!" Harry yelled back at us, his green eyes hard with determination and fixing on me beseechingly as he continued to shoot stunning spells at the goblins, I nodded my understanding and feeling oddly thrilled and terrified both I took hold of Ron and Hermione's hands and ran forwards with them.

"Harry – Harry – what are you doing?" Hermione cried as we skidded to a stop before the dragon, looking up at the impressive beast in awe and fear as it roared at our proximity.

"Get up, climb up, come on-" Harry urged and none of us even stopped to pause, there wasn't time, we didn't have a choice, as Harry climbed up onto the back of the seemingly oblivious dragon a nervous Hermione and Ron hurried around the side of the scally creature with me close behind.

"Just, don't think about it," I told Hermione as Harry reached out to hand her up, Hermione nodded at me, looking determined before she too clambered up onto the dragons back, Ron gestured for me to go first and helped me up into place behind Hermione with Harry's assistance before quickly joining us. Ron wrapped his shaking arms around my waist and I knew he was scared, we all were, but we really didn't have a choice.

The dragon, unaware it was free until then, moved its leg and realised it was no longer tied down, with a fierce roar the dragon, scenting freedom, reared on its hind legs and heart pounding I held on tightly round Hermione's waist and pressed my cheek flat against her bushy hair as she shrieked and lent forwards to hold Harry. Pressing our bodies flat against the dragons back we held on as tightly as we could as it started forwards, knocking over the approaching goblins with no effort at all, and took off into the air, rising as high as it could in the great passage and causing our backs to scrape the ceiling as we flew.

"We'll never get out, it's too big!" Hermione shouted but the dragon, determined to escape, sped towards the small passage opening, opened its huge mouth and blew fire at the gap, causing the walls to crumble and fall. Hanging on with all my might I gripped Hermione's waist as the dragon clawed and scrapped and barged its way through the opening while an army of goblins launched daggers and spears as its hind, they had no effect. Rocks and dust rained down on us heavily and in a jerky motion that made Ron pull me close between his chest and the dragon's reptilian flesh and made me think we were going to be shaken off, it managed to break through.

We weren't out of the tunnels yet though, while we were climbing and had escaped the goblins there was still a long way to go and the dragon was struggling to break its way out, Hermione, seeing this, started to use a blasting spell to help the dragon and Harry, Ron and I soon followed her lead, with our combined effort the dragon fought its way to the main room of the bank. Almost free of its torturous prison the dragon didn't pause, wide open spaces were just beyond the doors and it knew it, letting out a deafening roar it charged forwards, clawed feet scraping and sliding on the marble floor and burst through the front door, much to the horror of goblins and wizards alike. To a chorus of screams the dragon took to the skies, soaring over Diagon Alley, and I couldn't help but feel my heart fly with it, we were out! However, my exhilaration and joy didn't last long as the dragon rose up and up and we flew higher and higher above the ground and I suddenly felt the precariousness of our new situation. I gripped my friends tightly and gulped, oh Merlin, we were riding a dragon, a wild, beaten, dangerous creature with no way off and no way of controlling it, it could throw us from its back at any second and there wasn't a thing we could do about it.

Behind me Ron let out a string of curses as the dragons great wings beat rhythmically, jerking us about and propelling us forwards, my hair flew behind me like a flag and all I could see was Hermione's tangled curls as I buried my face against her back. The dragon dipped, flying up and then down suddenly, completely losing my stomach to the motion I joined Ron and let out a muttered gasp of a curse. The wind rushed over us, through my hair and almost seemed to blow through my veins, whipping up the excitement I felt deep in my heart despite how dangerous this was. I couldn't see where we were, but I knew we had left the city behind when the choking smell of smoke and petrol fumes was replaced the subtle scent of pollen and freshly cut grass.

"What do you reckon it's looking for?" Ron shouted over the roar of the wind and the whoosh of the dragon's wings.

"No idea," was Harry's yelled response so we just let the dragon drive, flying where it wanted to we could only hope it returned to the ground soon, though when it did there were still problems to contend with. Namely the dragon's probable hunger and how we might conveniently solve that for it. However, gripping hold of Hermione's robes I had my own problems, I knew what the Powers That Be were like, and they weren't all that fond of me, it would be just like my Sight to give me a vision now and send me plummeting to my death, so I focused all my attention on fighting off even the faintest chance of a vision. I hadn't felt so much as faint yet, but there was still time.

Mercifully the dragon soon began to descend, it was subtle at first, none of us noticed, but quickly Harry and the others were pointing out towns and roads and mountains, all of which meant we were losing height. Sensing the tension build up around us all and knowing we had to act soon, I pulled away from Hermione's back and looked out to see mountains and woodlands all around us and a large, stretching lake bellow.

"I say we jump when it gets low enough," Harry called to us, "straight into the water before it realises we're here!"

"What do you reckon, Ivy?" Ron shouted from behind me, "Is it safe?"

"Dunno," I shouted back unhelpfully, "I didn't see this far ahead."

"Great," Ron groaned but we all agreed it was our only option, unless being dragon food appealed to anyone, and it didn't.

"NOW!" Harry yelled as soon as the dragon was low enough, he slid over first, then Hermione, who fell with a scream.

Peering over the dragon's side, my hair whipping around my face, I moved quickly, before I could think too much about what I was doing, and pushed myself feet first off the side of the dragon. My yelp and fall were short, I landed with a splash and as water shot up my nose and toyed with my robes and tresses, I looked out into the murky green water and up at two pairs of legs above me, Harry and Hermione. Reaching upwards I swam towards them, gasping as I broke to water's surface and shaking my wet hair out of my eyes. Spluttering loudly Ron emerged beside me, and together the four of us swam for the shore, the opposite bank to the one where the dragon had settled its self further down the lake. Coughing and gasping we fought our way through reeds and mud to the dirty, grassy bank, and pulling ourselves ashore collapsed as one, shattered, until Harry sprang to his feet and began casting the protective spells. Knowing he had the right idea exhaustedly I hauled up and pulled the Hawthorn wand, and a decent about of pond life, from my pocket and set it down on the grass as I took a handful of my robes and began to ring them out.

Hermione and Ron soon sat up as well, Hermione, thinking ahead, pulled food, juice and essence of dittany from the beaded bag to tend our stinging wounds. None of us looked brilliant right then, soaping, burned and tired we all seemed ready to just collapse on the grass and sleep, but we couldn't. Hermione finished dabbing the potion on her own wounds and handed the bottle to me while Ron poured us all something to drink. I hissed as the potion touched a particularly nasty burn on my arm, there were so many of them I felt sure that there was no way I would find them all the first time, Hermione, had missed one red mark just below her hairline.

"Well, on the up side," Ron said, addressing myself and his other soaping friends as he too saw to his burns, "we got the Horcrux. On the downside-"

"- no sword," Harry half growled and I set my teeth in anger, as furious as he was at Griphook's betrayal.

"No sword," Ron repeated. "That double-crossing little scab…"

"We'll think of something," Hermione said, shooting a meaningful look at Ron as she cut across him.

"The sword can't be the only way to destroy them," I agreed as I abandoned my drenched clothes and took a welcome drink of juice, feeling considerably better for it.

"Just the only way we had," Harry muttered disheartened from where he sat beside me and I nudged him with my shoulder.

"Focus on what we have, not what haven't," I told him reassuringly, "we'll think of something."

"What do you think will happen to it?" Hermione asked after a pause filled with slurping and the squelching sound of us shifting on the sodden grass, looking down the bank at where the dragon was cleaning its own wounds and basking in its freedom. "Will it be all right?"

"Honestly, Hermione, you're starting to sound like Hagrid. It's a dragon for goodness sake, it'll be fine. Anyway, it's us you want to worry about." Ron said morosely, passing the bottle onto Harry.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked while Harry and I shared a worried look.

"Well, I don't know how to break this to you," Ron said, sitting forwards with a largely sarcastic air of something telling a story, "but I think they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts."

We laughed then, all of us, each of us tickled by the absurdity of the statement and truth of Ron's words. We had just broken in and out of Gringotts, something that was supposed to be impossible, it was madness. Laughing at the ridiculous truth like we were a group of lunatics, I rolled backwards onto the grass, clutching my stomach as the others sniggered and smirked. Wiping a tear from my eye I slowly sat back up, my damp hair slapping against my back as I did.

"Yeah," I agreed with a snicker as we sobered, "I think they MIGHT have noticed."

"What are we going to do though?" Hermione asked, voicing the question we'd all been skirting around, Harry slipped on the grass as he pulled himself back upright and I watched him, scrutinising his slightly bleary motions as he blinked a few times, as though trying to clear his head. "He'll know, won't he? You-Know-Who will know we know about his Horcruxes!" she asked nervously and there was no denying the truth of her words, he would be sure to notice now and take steps to secure his remaining Horcruxes, making our job all the more difficult.

"Maybe they'll be too scared to tell him?" Ron offered though it was clear from his tone he believed that no more than we did. I only half heard him though, my attention was drawn elsewhere as Harry, who I was still watching carefully, started to scowl and cringe as though in pain. It was a look I had seen before. "Maybe they'll cover up-"

"He's going!" I cried as Harry let out a shout of pain and lifting his hand to his lightening scar he passed out, sympathetic and afraid that he'd hurt himself I quickly reached out and caught Harry as he fell, lowering him gently onto the grass. "He's in You-Know-Who's mind again." I told the others as they scrambled to Harry's side and together we could only watch as Harry grit his teeth and hissed in pain as he witnessed what our enemy was doing. Frightened we all waited nervously, Hermione reached out to touch Harry's arm as he cringed and Ron's eyes were tight and furious as he watched his friend in pain, they looked at a loss but I knew from experience there was nothing we could do until he came back around.

With one final grimace Harry's eyes flew open, his emerald gaze dilated with fear and narrowed with determination he sprang up still gripping his scar, and feeling every ounce of severity and gravity of this situation I uttered the words that had so often been asked to me, "What did you see?"

"He knows," Harry told us, his voice deep and serious, "He knows, and he's going to check where the others are, and the last one," Harry said, frantic as he got to his feet and turned to face us, "is at Hogwarts. I knew it. I knew it."

"What?" Ron asked, jaw dropping and looking up at Harry in shock, Hermione wore a similar expression but I'll I could do was kick myself for not seeing this sooner, of course it was at Hogwarts, I had been loath to disagree with Harry's claims from the start and I had had more than enough warnings.

"He's right, Ron," I told my friend, looking from him to Harry with a sober expression in place, "it has to be there, it's the only place left and I've been having loads of visions about Hogwarts of late," I revealed to them, while Harry met my serious gaze, "running through the corridors and standing in a great cathedral sized room, it's stupid really," I said having an epiphany, "but I didn't realise that was the Room of Requirement until now."

"But all that proves is that we're going to go to the school again at some time," Ron said getting to his feet and with one shared look Hermione and I joined the boys, "how do you know it's at Hogwarts?"

"He thought about it, Ron," Harry said exasperated as he tried to make the others believe, "he decided it was the safest but wanted to warn Snape anyway, it's definitely there."

"Did you see where in Hogwarts it was?" Ron asked him and Harry shook his head, looking annoyed by that.

"No, he didn't think about exactly where it was." Harry admitted and at that point I stepped into their argument.

"I'll look for it," I told them with resolve as the cool evening breeze toyed with my damp hair and clothes, "I'll find out where it is, if we're supposed to get it then the vision ought to be somewhere my Inner Eye can find it." Surprisingly, Ron and Harry both looked dubious and a touch anxious at that, which I couldn't understand, I could help us.

"Ivy, that's probably not a good idea," Harry said and while his words were gentle his tone was firm, "what happened in Gringotts wasn't normal was it?" he asked me and frowning I avoided his gaze and his question, "you don't normally have so many visions in such quick succession."

"We're wasting time," I snapped irritably, still not looking at either of them, "I can do this-"

"No, you'll make it so you can barely stand or keep in this time while your life is in danger again." Ron cut across me protectively, his arms folded firmly against his chest.

"I can control them," I insisted, scowling at them both, "I will figure out where it's hidden."

"Don't exhaust yourself, Ivy," Harry said as he pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his pocket and shook it out, "we'll find it another way, but you were right, we are wasting time."

"Just because I'm a girl-!" I started to rant indignantly, unable to believe the nerve of these two, saying that I couldn't control my visions when I had summoned one up under my own power while we were at Shell Cottage that had saved us from any problems with Travers, so what if there were a few minor drawbacks, I could do it.

"Wait, wait!" Hermione, who had been objective in this conversation so far, exclaimed as she too staggered to her feet, "we can't just go, we haven't got a plan, we need to-"

"We need to get going," Harry said, his voice leaving no room for an argument but in the tired, moody state I was in I found some.

"We need to stop treating Ivy and Hermione like little girls," I chuntered irritably and everyone ignored me, charming.

"Can you imagine what he's going to do when he realises the ring and the locket are gone? What if he moves the Hogwarts Horcrux, thinking it's not safe?" Harry asked as Ron snatched up the cup and Hermione swayed a little to his way of thinking, looking unsure.

"But how will we get in?" she asked nervously.

"We'll go to Hogsmeade, and try and work something out when we get there, once we see what the protection around the school is like. Get under the cloak, Hermione, Ivy; I want us to stick together this time." Harry instructed and still feeling sulky but knowing now wasn't the time, I looked across my shoulder at my anxious dark haired friend, who genuinely seemed frightened for us all. Sighing I unfolded my arms, gripped hold of the ring around my neck and tugged it tightly, noticing as I did the fading light of the sun as it painted the sky read above the tops of the trees on the opposite bank, it would be dark soon.

"But we don't really fit-" Hermione started, and surprising everyone I ditched my sullen mood and said,

"It'll be dark, no one will notice our feet."

Harry sent me a grateful smile as a still reluctant Hermione and I made our way towards him and Ron, pressing the ring securely against my palm I felt nervous too but refused to show it, feeling deep in my bones that this was important. We huddled in close as Harry threw the cloak over our heads and pulled it as far down as he could around the four of us, it fluttered to a still somewhere about our shins, which wasn't a surprise really. Sharing one last look of gravity the four of us linked hands and, as one, we span on the spot and jumped into the suffocating blackness of apparition.

Landing on the cobbled High Street of Hogsmeade the four of us stood still for a moment, taking in the familiar scene with the oddest scene of melancholy, we knew every inch of this street but still, like everything else, it felt changed in our absence. It was a warm night, and the pleasant breeze toyed with my hair and the cloak as I looked down the High Street, took in the moonlit view, the shadows the shops cast on the cobbles and the sight of Hogwarts, silhouetted black against the midnight blue sky, my heart contracted. The village, usually teeming with life and excitement and energy, was completely empty, darkness had only recently fallen but still no evening shoppers could be seen, no merry drunkard was stumbling about the street and not a whisper of a sound came drifting through the village from the pubs. It was eerie, unnatural, it seemed as though there wasn't a soul in Hogsmeade and that confused me for a split second, and then I realised why. An ear splitting scream echoed through the village in cannon to our arrival, and as I pressed my hands against my ears to block it out, an otherworldly breeze swept across the front of my brain, stunned I felt a jolt of shock rocket through me and with no other warning a vision claimed me.

My Inner Eye flew open instantly, there was no transitional darkness, no numb preparation, my Sight clearly wasn't playing by its usual rules and I was thrown straight from my present to the future with no interval. I was still in Hogsmeade, in the exact same spot beside my friends, however, now we were no longer alone, the High Street was filled with dark robed men in masks who could only be Death Eaters, each one was stood in a predators stance, their heads pivoting in search of their prey and their wands at the ready. Hidden under the cloak I felt my friends stiffen around me, frozen in place at the sight of our enemies, not daring to move lest we accidentally bang into one of them, they were everywhere.

"Potter!" one of the many hooded figures yelled and I was instantly pulled from my vision and thrown back into the present. I came back to reality gasping for air, my stomach rolled with sickness and my head span but, remarkably I was still on my feet. Stunned by this I looked to the others, who appeared not to have even noticed my vision and were cringing and trying to block out the terrible scream still ringing out through the town.

Still trying to catch up and to wrap my head around what was surely a bloody miracle, I turned at the sound of the door being thrown open at the Three Broomsticks, and what I had just seen clicked into place frightfully when dozens of Death Eaters pilled out. When we apparated here we must have triggered that alarm, and the Death Eaters were responding to it. "Move," I hissed, quickly pushing the others backwards, forcing them into the shadows of a nearby alley, where we could better hide our visible legs and avoid the approaching murderers. My friends didn't question me, didn't say a word, they let themselves be moved out of the way and Hermione tugged me deeper into the shadows and closer to them all as Ron and Harry shot hard, serious looks at the Death Eaters, who were spreading out in the street behind us, wands raised and searching for us.

"Potter!" the Death Eater from my vision called, scanning the darkness around his fellows fruitlessly, but not giving in, "we know you're out here! Accio cloak!" he bellowed over the bloodcurdling scream that still rang through the village, I half expected the cloak to shoot away from us at the Death Eaters spell but it didn't so much as make an attempt, it stayed firmly where it was, keeping us hidden. "Not hiding under your wrapper then?" the Death Eater yelled and waited, but when this, surprisingly, didn't reveal us he turned to the others and said, "Spread out, he's here somewhere."

Not about to give the searching Death Eaters a chance to find us Harry motioned for us to hurry down the alley, which turned out to be a back street. Keeping close together we shuffled along, wands held tightly though it would be madness to use them and give away our position.

"Harry," Hermione whispered frightenedly from by my side, "we need to go."

"Great idea," Ron agreed, looking over his shoulder half to offer Hermione a comforting smile and half to check we weren't being followed, "we can leave and try again later."

"But can we?" I asked ominously, wondering that if they had something to warn the Death Eaters of our arrival, that they wouldn't have something to keep us from leaving. Would dissaparation even work here now? However, before we could even try or Harry could give his thoughts on the subject, the warm May night suddenly turned cold, an icy sensation slid over my skin, raising goosebumps and making me shiver.

"Dementors," Harry breathed, his breath coming out as smoke in the freezing air. I huddled closer to the others as we stopped, seeking their comfort while we turned, back to back, to look out of the soul sucking demons that now patrolled Hogsmeade, bad memories already surfacing.

My heart, paralysed in my chest, suddenly felt as though it were shattering behind my ribs as a sense of betrayal, so deep and profound shook it to its core. Tears stung painfully in my eyes and I let my lids flutter shut to keep them in. How could he? I asked myself, almost hysterically though there was no obvious trigger for my emotions, I felt crippled, the assault of this familiar pain on a heart that had thought it was safe once more, was devastating. His ring, hidden beneath my robes, seemed to burn and scold me like the cursed treasure in Bellatrix's vault, searing my flesh and weighing heavy around my neck, its presence against my heart undeniable. It's not real, I told myself firmly scowling and scrunching my eyes up tight as I tried to fight this hopeless agony, I'm over this, I don't care, it's just the Dementors trying to make me weak and vulnerable. I tried to push this pain aside, to hide it in the corner of my heart I relegated for that treachery, but it wouldn't go, it fought me with a new ferocity and my distress increased tenfold though I refused to give in, I wasn't weak and I certainly wasn't vulnerable. Forcing open my eyes I was met by a terrifying sight, ten Dementors, hovering above the ground, swept slowly down the street towards us, barely distinguishable in the darkness but for their rotting limbs and the feeling of deep hopelessness that chilled me right to my bones. It had all been a game for him, the long suppressed agony reared its ugly head as the Dementors ripped the fear from the darkest regions of my heart, he had used me all along, just so he could keep me sweet and persuade me to hide his secret. I meant nothing to him. Struggling against this, refusing to give in, I was released from my torment by the heavenly sound of Harry's cry.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled in spite of everything, in spite of the Death Eaters scouring the streets, in spite of how it gave away our position, and I couldn't have been gladder.

I took a deep, sobering breath as the glittering silver stag shot down the alley and charged at the Dementors, making them scatter, and tried desperately to get a grip of myself. It seemed impossible though, the Dementors had unlocked a fear that I had been suppressing for almost a year, something that had devastated me and lit me up with fury when I had first realised it, and I was deeply shaken. Feeling pathetic I continued to take steadying breaths as the shouts of the Death Eaters grew louder, they had doubtlessly heard Harry, and Hermione wrapped an arm around my shoulders and ushered me on while the boys led the way, quickly trying to get us to safety.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked me, leaning in close to mutter nervously in a low voice that the boys mercifully didn't hear, I could do without their protectiveness now.

Realising I must look worse than I thought I wanted to slap myself, how pathetic, I thought, but I couldn't help it, my emotions were running rampage through me and I felt physically sick, however, that didn't mean I wasn't going to fight it. "I'm fine," I assured Hermione, though I could tell from her expression she didn't believe a word of it, "just the Dementors." I said, making a gesture with my hand and pulling a face at Hermione that was meant to mean, 'you know', but honestly, even I didn't know.

Fortunately, though only so for a moment, I was spared from trying to convince myself I hadn't just been emotionally attacked, as a door on the left hand side of the street suddenly flew open. I couldn't see anyone there, it was only shadows, and the four of us froze where we stood.

"Potter," a rough voice growled, "in here, quick!"

**Author note: Hi everyone, hope you liked this and sorry that was a bit on the late side, I've been quite busy lately and hopefully what I have to say next will explain why.**

**Last update some of you might have noticed how I mentioned I was currently collabing on a story with the amazing Ferfrie D (some of you might be familiar with her already and those of you who aren't I would seriously recommend her writing) as a kind of writing exercise. Well, we just finished our short fic, which will hopefully lead to many others. Why am I telling you this? Well the answer is simple, I'm trying to persuade (beg) you to read it, for simple reason that this particular collab is about Ivy (with a healthy dose of Draco) and how our Seer copes with having to deal with the past for a change.**

**The collab centres around a diary (journal) that Ivy discovers while helping Sirius to clean out Grimmauld Place during her fifth year and follows her and the diary to Hogwarts through the first half of that year. The diary belongs to FerFrie D's OC Abbey Potter, who Ivy relates to in so many ways and around the usual madness that makes up her life Ivy is drawn into Abbey's world and profoundly affected by it. Honestly guys, I had so much fun writing this, and I would love it if you would give it a go. Pretty please. You won't be sorry. :)**


	28. Rebellion

**Author note: another update in less than a week? What on Earth is wrong with me? :)**

**Chapter twenty-eight: Rebellion**

**Ivy**

Stomach twisting with nerves and anticipation, a feeling of expectation claimed me which I couldn't fully understand; hurrying through the cramped tunnel I felt all the frightened determination and suspense of a soldier heading to war, or a prisoner ascending the scaffolds. My heartbeat was rhythmic in my chest, steady as marching feet, and walking with my head held high and with a frown of deep purpose in place I couldn't shake the feeling that this was it. It was as though everything was falling into line, as though we were reaching the close and that one way or another, it would end today. Spurred on by the premonitions I no longer fought against I sought to clear my mind, taking a deep breath I let my emotions fill me up and take control of me, a dangerous thing given how the fears the Dementors had resurrected still resonated within me still bubbled dangerously close to the surface, but I'd have to get over those if I wanted to coax my Inner Eye to show me where the Hogwarts Horcrux was hidden. And that was certainly easier said than done.

Frustration, sharp and niggling, bothered me as I failed once again to summon up a vision; however, I fought hard against the distracting irritation and suppressed it for now, refocusing my attention on the task at hand. Shuffling along behind the others I followed them as Neville led the way through the small, shadowy passageway that connected the school to the Hogshead pub, surprised even now to know that it existed, when it had never been on the Marauders map. Keeping my knees bent so that my head wouldn't scrape the ceiling I trod the well-worn but dusty floors with my thoughts running a thousand miles a minute, Aberforth, the barman at the Hogshead, who it just so happened was Dumbledore's brother, had saved our lives twice, both when he sent Dobby to the Malfoys' allowing the others to escape, and when he saved us from the Death Eaters, convincing them that they were seeing things, mere moments ago. It was a lot to wrap your head around, especially when you considered the blunt recount Aberforth gave of Dumbledore and the less than optimistic response he had to our desire to get into the castle, but that didn't matter now, we were on our way back to Hogwarts! There was nothing that could dampen the determination and excitement I felt, and scurrying through the torch lit passage I couldn't wait to reach the other end.

"Almost there now," Neville, our loyal friend, called from the front.

Neville, who had come down the passageway to get us, was perhaps the biggest surprise of all. Covered from head to toe in nasty looking marks and bruises Neville looked as though he had been in a war, horrified by this we had asked what had happened, but at first Neville had only shook it off, saying it was nothing. After a lot of pressing Neville had revealed to us that these wounds were punishment from the Carrows, two vile Death Eater siblings who taught at the school now and handed out punishment, after Neville fought against their brutal new regime. Neville, our shy, retiring, cautious friend had fought against their tyrannical rules and the mistreatment of the students at a great personal risk, as these Death Eaters were twisted monsters, and had restarted Dumbledore's Army with the help of Ginny and Luna. Teaching the students how to defend themselves and causing as much trouble for Snape and the Carrows as they could the D.A had been a brilliant way to oppose their rule, but now to be a known member was twice as dangerous as it had been when we started it in our fifth year. Snape and the Carrows had no mercy for D.A members, and being found out Neville had had to flee, having nowhere to go and with Luna captured by the Malfoys and Ginny in hiding because they knew Ron was with Harry, Neville had ran to the Room of Requirement and made his home there. The room, no not only a base for anti-Death Eater movement but also a refugee camp for endangered students, had accommodated for the needs of those living in it, providing beds and bathrooms and all the necessities.

Needless to say we were all extremely impressed and entirely dumbfounded, it seemed while we were away Hogwarts had been engaged in a war all of its own, and I was full of pride for my fellow students, Neville especially. However, as the slope of the tunnel began to incline upwards, I had found myself wondering about the pupils who weren't fighting the oppression, the Slytherin's who embraced it. Were there student 'law enforcers' like there had been last time, Neville had mentioned that he had run away from Crabbe and Goyle but he hadn't mentioned their blond haired leader, and I was about to ask about him before I stopped myself. I shouldn't have to ask, of course I knew what Draco was doing, he had loved being in the Inquisitorial Squad and I knew for a fact that we would have spent this past year lording his new Death Eater status over his fellow students, making their lives hell. Why bother asking just to confirm what I already knew?

The sloping passageway levelled out and as the five of us rounded a corner a flight of stairs and a doorway appeared, just like the one in the Hogshead. Reaching the door Neville pushed it open and filling the gap he called,

"Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?" Neville yelled as he stepped into the room beyond, which I still couldn't make out over the heads of the others. Harry, walking at the front of our quartet, followed Neville through the doorway and was met by a thunderous cry.

"Harry!"

"It's Potter, its Potter!"

"HARRY!"

The people in the room beyond screamed in joy as Harry disappeared through the gap and Ron and Hermione went to follow him, their own names yelled in welcome when they were spotted. Reaching the doorway, which was hinged by another picture, I paused, my hands resting against the smooth stone as I looked out at the scene before me. Dozens of students, of varying ages, genders and houses were gathered in the mammoth room, each and every one of them had stopped what they were doing when Neville had spoken, bed sheets were held unmade, books lolled redundantly in grips and forks full of food hovered just before mouths, we had their full attention. The room was an explosion of colour and furniture, banners for all the houses but Slytherin decorated the walls and there were draping's of scarlet, yellow and blue as far as the eye could see. It was like a massive common room/dorm, there were fireplaces with comfortable looking settees and chairs gathered around their roaring hearths, assorted round dining tables dotted one portion of the room and bright, vibrant hammocks hung from the many sculpted beams that supported the ceiling. The entire thing had an air of rebellion and secrecy about it, but also a lovely cosy feel, what with all the battered but smiling faces beaming over at us it looked like the Lost Boys had moved into Hogwarts.

"Ivy!" a few familiar voices called as I slowly decided the steps, staring in awe at the incredible scene. I stepped into the room to stand beside my friends and the next moment we were engulfed in a tidal wave of beaming faces, hugging us left right and centre, patting our backs and shaking our hands. It was awkward and strangely comforting at the same time.

"It extends more when new people arrive," Neville explained once the excited crowds subsided and he noticed the way we were admiring the busy room, "whatever we need, it gives us."

"And the Carrows can't get in?" Harry asked.

"No," Seamus Finnigan answered from the front of the crowd, my eyes widened at the sight of him, I hadn't realised he was there until he spoke, the young Irishman was barely recognisable then, his face was so battered and bruised. In response I felt a fresh wave of rage towards these unknown Carrows, who I knew had been the ones to do that, I had always been close to Seamus. "It's a proper hideout, as long as one of us stays in here they can't get in, the door won't open. That's all down to Neville; he knows exactly what to ask the room for."

Waving his hand and shrugging as though keeping everyone safe from persecution was nothing, Neville responded with, "it's easy really, you've just got to be specific, it took even me a while to get used to it. You don't think about all the stuff you really need, and there wasn't even any bathrooms until the girls showed up-"

"-and thought they'd quite like to wash, yes." Lavender Brown intoned from the crowd, another familiar face I hadn't noticed until that point.

"Wow, Neville," I said out of genuine pride for my friend as I looked away from the room and the safety, comfort and purpose it provided to the boy who had organised it all and pretty much led a rebellion in our absence, "this is amazing." My friend blushed as I smiled at him, looking embarrassed, but I felt sure my words secretly pleased him, Merlin knew he didn't get enough compliments, even when he truly deserved them.

"It's not that impressive," Neville said modestly, sounding as though he wanted to move the conversation on, away from himself. Sharing a disbelieving look with my friends, all of whom looked as though they were as ready to argue against Neville's claims as I was, I didn't get a chance to respond to that as someone else was already speaking.

"Tell us what you've been up to, though," Ernie Macmillian called from the throngs, "there've been so many rumours, we've been trying to keep up with you on Potterwatch." Ernie said, pointing to the radio, "You didn't really break into Gringotts?"

"They did!" Neville exclaimed proudly, repeating what we had told him earlier, "and the dragon parts true too!" the other students 'oooed' and 'ahhhed' at that, looking at each other in wonder.

"Never mind that," Lavender said, forcing her way to the front of the crowd and looking at me excitedly, "is it true what they're saying on the Undesirable posters? You're not really a Seer, are you Ivy?" Lavender asked her blue eyes wide as she eagerly awaited my response. Blushing a little I shifted, remembering her love for Divination and my supposed disdain for it, however, everyone here was a friend or as good as one, and I wasn't going to be ashamed of what I was any more.

"Yeah, I am," I told them, holding my head high with pride and confidence, Lavender looked impressed and turned to Pavarti instantly to discuss this turn of events, while the rest of the students look astonished by the news.

"But you dropped Divination?" a confused voice asked from the back, causing me to laugh and roll my eyes both.

"-you never told anyone-" another voice called sounding half impressed half annoyed at that.

"-But the dragon!" a third voice exclaimed above the noise, bringing everyone's attention back to our latest exploit.

There was a chorus of impressed sounding muttering, some applause and several hearty whoops in response to that, and beaming in spite of everything, my friends and I appreciated their support and acceptance; Ron even took a bow that had Hermione clearing her throat in rebuke and me snorting with laughter.

"What were you after?" Seamus asked zealously, stepping forwards. However, no one answered his question as at that moment Harry, who stood beside me, suddenly gasped in pain and clutched his forehead. I reached out to support him, watching anxiously as Voldemort's thoughts invaded his and Harry suffered for it, the other two turned, frightened both for Harry and of what he might have to report.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Neville asked worriedly as Harry forced his eyes open, blinking and grimacing in pain as he did. "Want to sit down? I expect you're tired, aren't-?"

"No," Harry rasped, grabbing my hand and gripping it tightly as he shot a meaningful look at Ron, Hermione and I. Dread slipped through me as I realised what he was telling us, we didn't have much time, Voldemort was moving. Hermione and Ron nodded in understanding and I helped him to right himself out of his agonised crouch.

"We need to get going," Harry said, more to the three of us than to anyone else, as he started forwards, urging me along with him.

"What are we going to do then, Harry?" Seamus asked, drawing his wand and puffing his chest to show that he was ready and willing. He wanted to help, I thought, recognising the look of determination he wore and feeling a confusing mix of relief and anxiety. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" Harry asked through gritted teeth, I could tell by the scowl he wore and the way he gripped my hand that he was still being tormented by Voldemort's emotions. "Well, there's something me – Ron, Hermione, Ivy and I – need to do, and then we'll get out of here." No we won't, I thought, knowing even as Harry spoke that that wasn't going to happen. Something big was going to happen here, and soon, it was a truth I felt with every fibre of my being though it filled me with dread at the mere thought.

"What d'you mean, 'get out of here'?" Neville asked as a hush fell over the room, all was silent as they awaited our response with expressions that looked none too impressed. The air in the room was tangible with their rebellion against Harry's words, thick and dangerous like an explosive gas. And then Harry lit the fuse.

"We haven't come back to stay," Harry said, frustratedly rubbing his scar as he lent on me for support, "there's something important we need to do-"

"What?" Neville asked immediately, his expression hard now and his tone a challenge, he wanted to know what was so important that we weren't going to stay.

"I – I can't tell you." Harry said and no one was pleased by that, muttering broke out amongst the crowd and each one of them looked ready to argue.

"Why not? It's something to do with fighting You-Know-Who, isn't it?" Neville asked and trembling with his pain Harry nodded, "then we can help you."

"No, no you can't," Harry resisted, shaking his head at them, "we can't tell you, we've got to do this alone, just the four of us, that's what Dumbledore said."

"We're his army," Neville continued to protest and I found myself agreeing with him, they had every right to help if they wanted to, I had an eerie feeling that soon all of this was going to concern them as much as us, if they wanted to help, I wanted to let them. "We've been here all year, doing our bit while you've been off-"

"It's not exactly been a picnic, mate," Ron said from beside Hermione and Neville gave a sombre nod of agreement but didn't waver in his resolve.

"I never said it had, but I don't see why you can't trust us. Everyone in this Room's been fighting and they've been driven in here because the Carrows are hunting them down. Everyone here has proven themselves loyal to Dumbledore – loyal to you."

"Harry," I said, my tone coaxing but firm, "we need to listen to them."

"Look," Harry began tiredly, but he didn't get a chance to say anything further, though I doubt anyone would have listened to him, as the door behind us opened once more and two more familiar faces appeared.

"Hi, everyone!" Luna said brightly as she skipped down the steps into the room, Dean following behind her, "Oh, it's great to be back!"

"Luna?" Harry asked in surprise as she drifted over to our side and offered the two of us a hug; grateful I squeezed the cheerful blonde, pleased to see her again, "what are you doing here?" Harry asked her as Seamus ran to hug Dean with a ferocity that showed he had missed his best friend.

"I sent for her," Neville told us as, still smiling, I turned back to face him and the others, while Luna went on to embrace Hermione and Ron, "I promised her and Ginny that if you turned up I'd let them know. We all thought that if you came back, it would mean revolution. That we were going to overthrow Snape and the Carrows."

"Of course that's what it means," Luna said confidently, "isn't it, Harry? We're going to fight them out of Hogwarts."

"Listen," Harry said, somewhat anxiously as he addressed the adamant group, the three of us stood firmly by his side in all ways but one, I shared a look with Ron and Hermione and knew they agreed with me, this wasn't something we could do alone. "I'm sorry, but that's not what we came back for. There's something we've got to do, and then-"

"You're going to leave us in this mess?" Cormac Mclaggen demanded ignorantly and I felt a familiar wave of dislike at the sight of him, remembering the last time I had seen him properly, without him running off like a girl at the sight of me, had been when he knocked Harry off his broom and almost killed him.

"No!" I exclaimed, stepping in-between Harry and Mclaggen and watching as the other boy's eyes widened when my hard gaze landed on him, good, I thought harshly, "you don't know a thing about what's going on, nothing!"

"What we're doing will benefit everyone in the end," Ron said, joining me with a look of disgust similar to mine in place as he defended Harry, "it's all about trying to get rid of You-Know-Who-"

"Then let us help you then!" Neville insisted once more, and his words were echoed by the dozens of determined students behind him.

Having enough of this totally pointless argument I met their complaints head on, "you can help us," I told them all, much to the astonishment of my friends, "but only with so much." I told them while the crowd muttered their agreement and Harry looked up at me was though I were mad, I wasn't, for once in my life I was being logical, this was the right thing to do. However, no more words were spoken about that for a moment as once again the door behind us was pushed open once more.

"Aberforth is getting a bit ratty," Fred said as he, George, Lee Jordan and Ginny emerged. Ginny smiled at us all as she walked into the room, however, there was no denying the way her face lit up when she saw Harry and still raw with my own emotions I had to fight not to let the obvious love she showed hurt me, just because I had didn't have that didn't mean I should begrudge anyone else it, I had gotten over that. However, while Harry's grip on my hand tightened and I knew my friend well enough to know what Ginny meant to him, he didn't look in the least bit pleased to see her here. "He wants a kip, and his bar's turned into a railway station."

Following the twins, Ginny and Lee into the room were Cho Chang, who made a point of smiling at Harry as she passed him, and four people I recognised but was nevertheless surprised to see. Descending the steps in an elegant manner that I had always envied of the Slytherin girl, was Alexis Viriant, I knew her from her frequent trips to the Weasley's, having been a close friend of Percy Alexis had gotten close to his family and hadn't stopped going to see them even after she fell out with him. The graceful girl had her jet-black hair tied back and smiled at me, somewhat knowingly, as she passed. I was surprised by her actions, wondering why she looked at me like she knew something I didn't; however, I didn't focus on that as I was stunned by who followed her into the room. Surprised I looked at the laughing blonde girl with bouncing golden girls, who I recognised as one of Alexis' closest friends, realising in that instant where else I had seen her. She was the girl I had seen in Diagon Alley earlier today, the one who had been giving money to the beggars there. Shocked but oddly pleased by this, I watched as Alexis, her blonde friend and two other girls I knew she was close to, walked to stand beside Fred and George, who greeted their brother's friend with warm grins and gentle ribbing, which had the Slytherin laughing.

"What's the plan, Harry?" George asked, looking over at us.

"There isn't one," Harry said, looking at me meaningfully but I didn't back down, I knew we needed them.

"Just going to make it up as we go along, are we?" Fred asked, smirking, "my favourite kind."

"Harry," Hermione said, standing beside me and looking at the frustrated boy who still clutched my arm as he battled the pain of Voldemort's assault, "I think Ivy might be right."

Harry still didn't however, and showing signs of stress but not of wavering, he turned to address Neville, "You've got to stop this! What did you call them all here for? This is insane-"

"We're fighting, aren't we?" Dean asked, sounding perplexed as he pulled out the fake galleon Neville had used to send the message, "The message said Harry was back, and we were going to fight!"

"Why can't they help?" Ron asked Harry in a low voice as the others continued to declare their willingness.

"What?" Harry asked, sounding betrayed.

"They can help," Ron said, moving in close and making sure no one but us three could hear him, "we don't know where it is, we don't need to tell them it's a Horcrux, but we need to find it fast." Harry still looked unconvinced through.

"We're going to need them," I told them with a sigh as the weight of my own words lay heavy on me and the others turned to look at me, "not just for this, though I agree with Ron, the more eyes searching the better, but there's going to be more, and we will need them." I said with all seriousness.

"You had a vision?" Harry asked, sounding slightly nervous.

"No," I admitted before doing the previously unthinkable and embracing my mad premonitions, "but this all feels weird, strange and right at the same time, it's like we're standing on the edge of something and we're about to go over." I said, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples, trying to clear my head and call forth something more concrete but having no luck, despite that though I was sure what I said was the truth. The others, who by now knew better than to dismiss my strange feelings, let the gravity of this sink in for a moment, but Harry still looked unconvinced though.

"You don't have to do everything alone, Harry," Hermione said gently, expression forlorn Harry looked between the three of us, standing alongside him as we always did, and he heaved a sigh, giving in.

"All right," he conceded, before looking out at the rest of the room, who were still debating amongst themselves and all of them adamant that they fight, "okay," Harry called out, silencing the room instantly as they eagerly turned to hear what he had to say, "there's something we need to find," Harry said, standing tall next to him I felt my stomach roll as he spoke, but ignored it, thinking it was only nerves about what was surely to come in the approaching hours, "something that'll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?" Harry asked, looking at the present Ravenclaws particularly as he voiced his request.

"Well, there's her lost diadem." Luna said dreamily from the armchair she sat in next to Ginny, "I told you about it, remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy's trying to duplicate it."

"Yeah, but the lost diadem," said Michael Corner somewhat sarcastically, "is lost, Luna. That's sort of the point."

"When was it lost?" Harry asked, as interested as we all were, the diadem certainly fit the bill as the sort of thing Voldemort would have used, ancient, valuable, if its status as 'lost' was anything to go by, and a former possession of a founder.

"Centuries ago, they say," Cho said, going all story-teller with her grave voice, "Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself."

"And there's been no reported sighting since?" I asked, intrigued by this, how could a priceless artefact just vanish without any trace? It didn't make sense, unless Voldemort had never found it either, but for some reason I felt convinced that he had, it was perfect for his needs and the vile murderer was nothing if not a thorough perfectionist, if anyone could have found it, it would have been him.

The Ravenclaws shook their heads in unison but my hope didn't dwindle in the slightest.

"Sorry, but what is a diadem?" Ron asked.

"It's a kind of crown," explained Terry Boot, "Ravenclaws' was supposed to have magical properties, to enhance the wisdom of the wearer."

Building an image in my mind, of a crown like object bearing Ravenclaws' crest, I latched onto my new target and let only it fill my thoughts as I used this new information to try and coax my Inner Eye into giving me a useful vision. However, still it refused, and I felt nothing but lightheaded and frustrated as I tried to force a vision to come to me.

"And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?" asked Harry, desperate to follow this lead. It seemed no one could help him though, as silence and the shaking of heads was the only response to his words, until Cho came in with a suggestion.

"If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry? Ravenclaws' wearing it in her statue."

Harry's grip on me tightened dramatically and I felt him cringe beside me, squeezing his hand comfortingly I knew that he was struggling to stay here with us, that Voldemort's emotions were drawing him in and that it hurt.

"He's on the move," he told Hermione, Ron and I quietly after a moment, before looking back at Cho and then to us once more, "listen," he said, sounding as though he were trying to convince us of something, "I know it's not much of a lead, but I'm going to go and look at this statue, at least to find out what this diadem looks like."

"It's fine," Hermione told him, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder as our friend was still wincing, "it's all we've got to go on, you go."

Harry looked relieved as Ron and I nodded our agreement to Hermione's words, "good, wait for me here and keep, you know- the other one - safe."

"No problem, Harry," I said fervently, "and I'll keep trying to bring on a vision, it'll be easier to now I know exactly what we're looking for."

Harry didn't look pleased by this, but I didn't care, I was going to do the only thing I could do, the only thing that seemed to do any good, what point was there in me having these powers if I didn't use them now, when we needed them the most? Harry looked as though he wanted to argue with me, but something in my expression must have told him that would be pointless, as he just sighed and shook his head before turning to Ron and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, 'keep an eye on her'. Annoyed that he had such little faith in me, but knowing it was for all the right reasons, I frowned at him as he squeezed my hand in a silent show of gratitude before he let go and turned to Cho.

"No," Ginny said firmly as Luna got to her feet, a fiercely possessive edge to her voice that dared anyone to defy what she said next, "Luna will take Harry, won't you Luna?" Ginny said decidedly and I couldn't suppress my smirk at the redhead's commanding tone and Cho's disappointed expression. It didn't matter how long they'd been apart, or that Harry had broken it off between them, Ginny still loved him, I thought, refusing to let that thought upset me, and surprised to find that if anything it filled me with contentment.

"Oooo, yes, I'd like to," Luna agreed enthusiastically, much to Ginny's obvious satisfaction and after Harry said a quick goodbye to us and while he and Luna headed for the exit, I turned back to Ron and Hermione, who looked how I felt, worn, determined and oddly glad to be back here again. In spite of everything there was a peace and happiness that filled me whenever I was in Hogwarts, like my parents' house and the Burrow, this was home.

"Well," Hermione said with a small smile as the room around us hummed with excited chatter and anticipation for the fight we all knew was to come, "Harry should be safe with Luna."

I grinned in response to that, Ron however, looked confused, clearly not understanding what Hermione meant, "he will indeed," I agreed, "you've gotta hand it to Ginny, she's not a stupid girl."

"No, I'm not," the wily redhead said from behind me and I turned to find Ginny there, looking pleased but troubled at the same time, "how are you?" she asked, embracing me and having missed her I gave my friend a tight squeeze before I responded.

"Fine," I said, as after everything that had happened to say 'good' would be too big a lie even for me. Ginny pulled away with a look that said she doubted even that, but she didn't say a thing about it and went on to hug Hermione and Ron, holding onto the brother she had always fought with tightly after their long separation, so much so that Ron actually looked surprised by her actions.

"It's all right, Gin," he said, awkwardly patting her back to looking pleased to be with her again nonetheless, "I missed you too."

"So," Ron said, turning to me and still looking all brotherly when he let go of Ginny, "you're still going to try and force a vision? Even after what happened last time?"

Pursing my lips and folding my arms I met my friends concerned and protective gaze, "You know I am," I said bluntly, "I have to do this and you know that, so just, please, don't start with me."

"I'm not going to let you hurt yourself, Ivy," Ron said just as firmly as I had, startling me a little with his conviction on the matter, "I don't like this, none of us do," he said, gesturing to Hermione who despite her earlier agreement with my attempts, nodded worriedly, "it's dangerous and you know it is."

Fear prickled uneasily inside me at his words and I was forced to admit, if only to myself, that he was right. The effect forcing my visions had on me did frighten me, it made them even more random and volatile than normal, leaving me open and vulnerable while I saw what was to come and if we truly were in line for a fight, as I was convinced we were, then I was putting my life in danger, even more so than it would have been anyway. But I didn't have a choice, I knew forcing a vision made their quality rubbish and that the Powers That Be punished me by sending me several in quick succession, but what could I do? I had to ability to help us, to look into the future and find one of the last things we needed to destroy Voldemort, to save us all, how could I pass up on that just because it might increase my chances of having a badly timed vision during a fight, when by taking the risk I could help to end this?

"I can handle it," I said, but my words had no effect, not even on me, Ron continued to look defensive, Hermione and Ginny shared a worried look, and my stomach continued to roll, making me feel physically sick. Lifting my hand to my throbbing temples I did my best to school myself away from my doubts and focus on finding the diadem, however, when the room started to spin around me I abandoned that. "crap," I gasped, realising too late that I was having a vision, I had dismissed the symptoms and taken completely of guard I staggered and blinked as the revolving room disorientated me. I watched as my friends quickly reached out to me while that otherworldly breeze drifted across my mind, helpless as it wiped everything away and plunged me into the future.

Just like in Hogsmeade earlier, this vision opened straight up, while my violent reactions appeared to have come back there was still no numbing pause, I was thrown head long into the vision so abruptly that I felt as though I had collided with the person whose body I assumed, as it certainly wasn't me. My body was bigger, generally taller and broader, longish black hair covered my forehead and obscured my vision, but I made no move to knock it away, I was frozen, like a deer in headlights, watching as a heavy woman with slumped shoulders and long, lank brown hair with her arm outstretched. The fear that consumed me was blinding as she moved to press her forefinger to the mark branded on her arm. The Dark Mark.

I was pulled from this scene abruptly, callously, as the Death Eater with a cruel smile vanished and I landed heavily back in the present with a gasping breath. Blinking up at the ceiling while I forced air into my lungs I felt my heart thunder in my chest, Harry was in trouble, he had been found, it was he who had been spotted and if I didn't do something, if I didn't warn him, then Voldemort would know he was here, would know what we were doing. I had to move. Breaking free of the hands that held me, supporting my weight and keeping me from falling to the floor, I stumbled forwards.

"Ivy?" Hermione questioned anxiously from behind me, following me along with Ron and Ginny as I battled the spinning in my head, that didn't matter now, Harry was in danger.

"I've got to go," I told my alarmed friends as I started through the crowd of curious onlookers, "stay here."

"What?" Ron demanded, "no, Ivy, we promised Harry we'd stay here!" he called, struggling to keep up with me as I raced through the small crowd towards the area Harry and Luna had headed towards, where the exit had to be.

"Ivy!" Ginny called through the throng of bodies but I ignored here and the other two, who were still trying in vain to reach me, making it to the other side of the crowd I looked around, noticing a small cupboard, the door of which was ajar and that opened up onto a steep staircase, reasoning that that was the exit I headed towards it.

With my friends still calling my name I ducked under the doorframe and hurried up the staircase, taking to the steps two at a time as the ceiling became tall enough for me to stand up properly. The stairway was lit irregularly with torches, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows on the steps and playing havoc with my eyes as I ran, but I didn't show my pace, my heart was pounding in my chest and with a fierce determination I raced on, I had to get to Harry before they spotted him. Coming up short I skidded to a stop when the staircase sudden levelled out into a landing, ending in a seemingly solid stone wall, terrified that this wasn't the way out after all, and knowing that if I had to go back down there to find another exit my friends wouldn't let me leave as soon as I needed to, that I might end up being too late, I reached out to touch the wall, to search for a secret handle or catch. There was neither of those things, but at my touch the wall dissolved to reveal a stone archway, cautiousness overcoming me for a second, I stepped tentatively forwards and peered out into the darkened, deserted corridors of the school, knowing that this place was a thousand times more dangerous than the last time that I was here. But now wasn't the time to be cowardly, and the coast was clear so I took off down the corridor at a run. I was on the third floor, I recognised the landmarks, which meant I still had several flights to climb before I reached the Ravenclaw Tower, and even as I ran, feet pounding franticly on the stone floor, I realised that I didn't know exactly where the entrance to their common room was.

Hoping for a miracle I raced through the moonlit corridors and took to the stairs, knowing that if I was ever going to get caught it would be now, running in the open like this with nowhere to hide. However, there was nothing else for it, Harry had the Invisibility Cloak and I had to warn him, there was no other way. Sprinting up the staircases, my gaze flicking every which way for fear of being spotted, I heard myself panting and did my best to smother the sound; my nosy feet were already doing enough to give me away. Reaching the floor I wanted I paused, stepping forwards cautiously to peer down the corridor, fearful of patrolling prefects and the infamous Carrows, or worse, the boy who was the very last person I wanted to see now. It was strange, being back here. The memories and feelings the Dementor had renewed seemed only to intensify here, in a place where it seemed every inch of space held a different memory of him. Maybe it wasn't so strange then; I thought as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ears, that I felt as though I were reliving every moment with him over and over again inside of me, going up and down on a rollercoaster of emotions holding onto only the safety belt of hatred for protection. Creeping down the empty corridor I wondered what I would do if I happened across Malfoy, if he was the swatty prefect who found me sneaking about, and I honestly couldn't say for sure. I knew what I wanted to do, I wanted to curse his sorry arse into oblivion, whether he helped me escape from the Manor or not, I wanted to hurt him, to hit every bit of flesh I could reach and wound him like he did me, twice as bad even. But there was a frightening portion of me that didn't want to do any of those things, and strangling that part before it could poison the rest any more I reached up to wrap my fingers around the cool metal of the ring, and gripped the Hawthorn wand tightly.

I didn't know for sure, but I was certain I could remember seeing the Ravenclaws head this way after lunch and lessons, so odds were that their common room was down here somewhere but I didn't know exactly where. Going on the only hope I had I hurried on, eyes scanning the shadowy corridor for anything that might be a secret entrance, heart pounding like an execution drum in my chest. A noise, shuffling behind me, caused me to freeze, wide eyed and petrified I turned quickly to inspect the darkened corridor, holding my wand threateningly, but despite the way my heart drummed fearfully in my chest I was alone. Still suspicious I continued walking backwards, my wand trained on the grey blackness and darkened alcoves of the corridor, a thousand places for an enemy to hide, terrified that someone was following me. However, I was soon forced to admit that I was simply being paranoid, and turned my attention back to the direction I was heading. Reluctantly I lowered my wand, biting my lip in frustration as I did, I still felt uncomfortable, could still feel the weight of eyes upon me, but I quickly convinced myself I was overreacting, Harry needed me now and I was wasting time jumping at shadows. My determination and anxiety flaring I span around, however, it wasn't the familiar corridor I saw when I turned, coming face to chest with a set of black robes a thrill of shock and fear shot through me and before I could stop myself pain exploded in my nose, turning my vision red as I collided with the figure before me.

**Author note: Ta da… yeah, I know, it's not the best thing I've ever written but I'm making progress on through the book, and the next chapter, in my opinion, is where it really starts to get interesting ;)**

**Two quick points if you please, first off, I'd like to thank my newest anonymous reviewer, Ikari No Ojo, who wrote me a lovely review, it's always nice to hear from you all, especially new readers, so thanks Ikari No Ojo! Also this chapter is dedicated to Ikari No Ojo, along with xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, Foxtail-Padfoot and Leanora, for their brilliant reviews, thanks to you all and much love!**

**In addition to this I have a proposition. Those who read the author note on the end of my last chapter will be aware that the collab fic I've been working on with FerFrie. D has been completed, I am incredibly proud of our effort and thank those of you who have read it, you are amazing! And, I want to thank those people properly in the only way I can. So, whoever takes the time to review 'Seeing the Past' (the fanfic's title) will be receiving a snippet of the next chapter of 'Losing Sight', as a thank you for their comments. So, for those of you who are interested, there is a link to our joint profile (The-Two-Way-Mirrors), on my profile page.**

**Thanks for reading guys, hope you enjoyed this chapter. :) x**


	29. Fated

**Author note: Eeeke, I'm on a bloody roll all right! I know, I know, three chapters in less than two weeks isn't exactly impressive, but come on, for me of late that is an achievement!**

**Disclaimer: yeah, I meant to do this for the past few chapters, but kept forgetting. Clearly I do not own anything identifiable as being part of Harry Potter, all of that belongs to the fabulous JK Rowling.**

**Chapter twenty-nine: Fated**

**"Knowing what will happen in the future, we are faced with a simple choice: either we resolve not to become attached to people and things, or we decide to love them even more fiercely." - Amélie Nothomb**

**Ivy**

"Professor?" I asked, my voice a breath of surprise as I stared up at the shocked looking Transfiguration teacher, backing up so that I could see her better. Professor McGonagall's eyes were wide as she looked down at me, her expression a complete mask of disbelief and her lip parted as though she had been about to say something but couldn't find the words any more. As my former Head of House blinked several times, as though trying to discern if I were real or not, I was overcome by a great and powerful relief, a thousand nasty possibilities had ran through my head in the agonising seconds after I had collided with her, most of them Death Eater shaped or blond, and I couldn't quite put into words how brilliant it was to see her. She looked exactly the same as she always did, tall, commanding and maternal, though considerably more shaken than usual, and as I realised just how much I had missed the matronly woman I had to fight the urge to reach out and hug her, knowing she wouldn't appreciate it.

"Jones?" Professor McGonagall asked me, still looking at me in astonishment, "what on Earth are you doing here?" she asked, however, as I opened my mouth to answer her my former teacher's expression suddenly solidified, going hard and reprimanding as she folded her arms across her chest and I didn't get the chance to speak, "no, I don't want to hear excuses, it is far too dangerous for you to be here. What in the world were you thinking, Jones? Haven't you any idea what they will do to you if they see you? You have to go, immediately." She insisted sternly, opening her palms towards me and gesturing at me in an ushering motion as she stepped forwards, urging me back down the corridor.

"Professor wait!" I pleaded quickly, though she looked no more inclined to listen, "I need your help."

"My help," Professor McGonagall repeated, pausing a moment before continuing to force me away from where I needed to be, "of course you do, I'll take you to the gates and Confund the guards to let you out, but for goodness sakes Jones, hide yourself, Professor Flitwick always commended you on your use of the Disillusionment Charm, why on Earth aren't you using it?"

"No, Professor, I can't leave, not yet," I insisted digging my heels in and bringing both of us to an abrupt stop, not about to give in now, "I need you to show me where the Ravenclaw common room is." I told her, going to stand beside her, facing the way I had been heading down the corridor to show that we needed to get going, while she just looked surprised.

"The Ravenclaw common room?" McGonagall asked in bewilderment, before her voice grew sharp again, "what could you possibly want there? You haven't the time for that, Ivy; you need to leave before you are seen."

"No, Professor, I really don't ," I said, not waiting for her to agree and just heading off down the corridor briskly, my eyes searching once more for anything that might give away the common room's location, "and we haven't got the time for this, Harry needs help."

"Harry? Potter is here too?" Professor McGonagall asked sounding almost hysterical at that as she hurried along beside me, trying to keep up, "do you all have a death wish?"

"There's something we need to do, that's why we've come here, but Professor hurry, Harry's in the Ravenclaw common room and he's been spotted, or he will be…" I said, looking pointedly at McGonagall over my shoulder, I knew she would understand, she was one of the few teachers at the school who knew about my powers before the Ministry had made them public, I trusted her implicitly, "I need to get up there and help him but I don't know where it is." I said somewhat frustratedly as I went back to scanning the corridor, time was running out, I didn't know when exactly Harry would be seen but I had a terrible feeling I was going to be late again, and I hated that.

It took a few seconds of silent jogging for my words to sink in, but when they did Professor McGonagall's face hardened once more in a resolve to an entirely different purpose, still protective she matched my stride easily and pointed ahead, "the door is just ahead, up those stairs," she told me, gesturing towards an arch in the wall, beyond which there was a spiralling stone staircase, "I will accompany you." Grateful of that, even though I knew that I probably shouldn't have been, I raced along beside McGonagall until she stopped suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps hitting flagstones echoing down the corridor, alert McGonagall quickly pulled me behind her back and out of sight.

Peering around McGonagall's tense stance, the Hawthorn wand clutched tightly in my hand and my heart beating quick and quiet in my chest, I watched a shadow appear against the left hand side wall ahead of us, and then a heavy man, with hunched shoulders who panting loudly with exertion, rounded the corner ahead of where we stood, made straight for the Ravenclaw staircase, so desperate to reach his own destination that he didn't notice McGonagall standing rigidly in the corridor. "Carrow," she snarled, distaste evident in her voice and a glance up at her revealed that her lip was curling, feeling my own wave of rage and revulsion I glared at the man as he waddled up the staircase, "quickly," McGonagall urged and together we hurried after Carrow.

As we reached the stone archway McGonagall froze again, listening, we could still here Carrow wheezing his way up the staircase, impatient to stop him, even though I knew it had been a woman who had seen Harry, I started up the staircase but McGonagall held me back, grabbing my shoulder to stop me. With a flare of disrespectful annoyance I rounded on her to see the professor's expression was calculating, ear cocked and alert she waited until Carrow recovered from his panting and picked up his speed again, making significantly more nose as he stumbled up the steps, before sweeping forward and silently preceding me up the staircase. Okay, I thought with just a touch of irritation, that was probably the smart thing to do. Sneaking up the spiralling staircase Professor McGonagall and I made our way swiftly upwards, keeping tightly to the stone pillar the staircase wrapped around to ensure that Carrow never spotted us. Anxious to hurry I was more than a little annoyed then McGonagall forced me to a stop again, staring upwards the both of us listened when Carrow reached the door.

A quick, thunderous knock sounded, followed by an eerie feminine voice asking, "Where do vanished objects go?" confused I frowned and looked at Professor McGonagall, wondering what in the world that was, however she didn't illuminate, she was too busy listening.

"I dunno, do I? Shut it!" a gruff voice snarled and it took no stretch of the imagination to assume that this was Carrow speaking now, "Alecto? Alecto? Are you there? Have you got him? Open the door!" Crap, I thought, my jaw tightening in anger, I was too late, the woman who had seen Harry must have been the other Carrow, Alecto and now she had him.

However, no response was heard from the other side of the door, hope picking up I stood a little taller and lent forwards so that I could hear better, "ALECTO!" Carrow bellowed, thumping his fist violently against what sounded like a wooden door, "If he comes, and we haven't got Potter – d'you want to go the same way as the Malfoys? ANSWER ME!" Rattling and shaking the door in a way that was so vicious it almost had me cringing from the noise, I could easily understand why this bully had terrorised the students so, and it infuriated me to no end.

"Stay here," McGonagall whispered suddenly, taking me by surprise, and setting a firm, restraining hand on my shoulder before taking off up the stairs normally, her heeled boots clicking on the steps and her pace natural.

Staring after her the temptation to disobey was great, how could I possibly stay here when there was every chance my friend had been captured by one of these vile creatures? However, there was a part of me that reluctantly agreed with McGonagall, that I would be helping no one by suddenly appearing, least of all Harry, as they would know for sure that he was here. So, logic warred with protectiveness for a moment and I settled on a compromise, keeping out of sight I silently continued my creeping, heading upwards just in case.

"May I ask what you are doing, Professor Carrow?" Professor McGonagall asked in a tight, cold voice from somewhere above me.

"Trying – to get – through this damned – door!" he raged, still beating his meaty fist against the wood by the sounds of it. "Go and get Flitwick! Get him to open it, now!"

"But isn't your sister in there?" Professor McGonagall asked neatly, "Didn't Professor Flitwick let her in, earlier this evening, at your urgent request? Perhaps she could open the door for you? Then you needn't wake up half the castle."

"She ain't answering, you old besom!" Carrow snapped and hands trailing against the cold stone pillar I bristled at the insult, "You open it! Garn! Do it, now!"

"Certainly, if you wish it," McGonagall responded icily, before a soft rapping sound echoed down the staircase and the female voice repeated,

"Where do vanished objects go?"

"Into non-being, which is to say, everything," replied McGonagall steadily.

"Nicely phrased," the voice replied and there was the sound of a door opening and walking feet before a loud, guttural cry of rage sounded out.

"What've they done, the little whelps?" Carrow demanded and hating not knowing what was going on I continued to climb, peering around the last turn to spot an open doorway, however, all I could see through it was McGonagall and Carrow's backs and the vague outline of a large room. Frustrated I lent forwards. "I'll Cruciate the lot of 'em 'til they tell me who did it – what's the Dark Lord going to say? We haven't got him and they've gorn and killed her!"

"She's only Stunned," McGonagall said, sounding thoroughly unimpressed as she bent down to examine something I couldn't see, "She'll be perfectly all right." I perked at that, not the news that the disgusting Death Eater would be fine, but that she had been stunned, that meant that Harry and Luna were fine, that they had sorted this.

"No she bludgering well won't!" Carrow exclaimed, "Not after the Dark Lord gets hold of her! She's gorn and sent for him, I felt me Mark burn, and he thinks we've got Potter!" any hope I might have felt evaporated then, my heart sinking I closed my eyes and cursed, crap, Voldemort was coming, Alecto Carrow really had pressed her Mark. Oh Merlin we were buggered.

"'Got Potter' ?" McGonagall asked sharply, rounding on Carrow, her narrowed gaze spotting me standing half on the landing but not reacting, I knew her well enough to know she didn't approve of my disobeying her, "what do you mean, 'got Potter'?"

"He told us Potter might try and get inside the Ravenclaw Tower, and to send for him if we caught him!" Carrow told her and that caught my attention, yes Voldemort knew what we were up to, we had established that already, but, Carrow had just confirmed that we were doing the right thing, if Voldemort was afraid of us coming to the Ravenclaw Tower we must be on the right tracks!

"Why would Harry Potter try to get inside Ravenclaw Tower? Potter belongs in my house!" McGonagall asked irately and Carrow, I noticed, flexed his hands in frustration, the motion grabbing my attention and making me nervous, wary, like he might try and attack Professor McGonagall if she didn't shut up.

"We can push it on the kids," Carrow decided appallingly, his voice lightening and his stance relaxing as he thought of the 'perfect' solution. "Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there," he pointed upwards, presumably towards the dormitories, "and we'll say they forced her to press her Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm…he can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?"

"Only the difference between truth and lies, courage and cowardice," McGonagall said, sounding completely disgusted by the spineless man's suggestion, "a difference, in short, which you and your sister seen unable to appreciate. But let me make one thing very clear. You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Hogwarts. I shall not permit it." McGonagall said firmly and I felt a rush of fierce pride towards her.

"Excuse me?" Carrow demanded, his gruff voice shaking with rage, however, Professor McGonagall didn't flinch or cower before the vile thing in front of her and my grip around the Hawthorn wand tightened as Carrow stepped forwards, getting right in McGonagall's face.

"It's not a case of what you will permit, Minerva McGonagall. Your time is over. It's us what's in charge here now, and you'll back me up or you'll pay the price." He growled before he spat in her face.

I saw red instantly, furious and disgusted I ran forwards, the consequences be damned, however, at the other side of this scene someone else had the same idea and Harry, who I now knew had been there the whole time, ripped the off the Invisibility Cloak, capturing Carrow's attention instantly and growling, "you shouldn't have done that."

Carrow, fixed upon Harry, didn't notice me storming into the room, livid at his treatment of McGonagall and the threat he posed to Harry, but I was going to make damn sure he knew about it. "Impedimenta!" I roared, my wand swinging round on him and a blast of light shooting from the tip, it collided with Carrow with the force of a speeding train, forcing his back to arch and flinging him forwards. He didn't get a chance to recover, instantly after my attack Harry took his turn.

"Crucio!" Harry bellowed and instantly Carrow was lifted off his fat feet and writhing in agony where he was suspended in the air, Harry's expression was as merciless as my own as we watched him. Arsehole, he blood well deserved that!

"I see what Bellatrix meant," Harry said, still watching his tormented victim, "you need to really mean it."

"Potter! Jones!" McGonagall exclaimed, spinning around, unsure who she should chastise first, the Transfiguration teacher settled on me and span around to stare at me in reprimanding disbelief, "I told you to wait behind."

"I couldn't help it," I said earnestly, stepping towards them all, "you needed me."

"It would have been safer for you to stay when I told you to!" She continued in her telling off, unswayed by my arguments, before she rounded on Harry too, "Potter, that was foolish!"

"He spat at you!" Harry insisted vehemently.

"Potter, I – that was very – very gallant of you – but don't you realise -?"

"Yeah, I do," Harry conceded before looking over at me and frowning, "I thought I told you to stay with the others?" he said and I rolled my eyes.

"Again, with the waiting behind," I drawled, shaking my head, "haven't any of you realised I'm not good at that yet? Especially not when I have a vision about you being found." I told him pointedly, before looking around the room and asking, "Where's Luna?"

"I'm here," the blonde girl said cheerily, taking the Invisibility Cloak off her head, making it look as though it were suspended in mid-air, and smiling out at us. McGonagall, overwhelmed by the sight of yet another outlawed student, staggered back, grabbing hold of a nearby armchair for support.

"Voldemort's on his way," Harry said seriously and Luna looked at him, mildly interested.

"Oh, are we allowed to say his name now?" she asked, taking the rest of the cloak.

"I don't think it makes any difference what we call him," Harry said, "he already knows where I am."

"You must flee," McGonagall said, regaining herself, "now, all of you, as I said to you Jones, I will Confund that guard at the gates to let you out, but you must go now!"

"We can't do that, Professor," I said adamantly and causing her to look at me both beseechingly and angrily.

"There's something I-" Harry started to say but I cut across him with a,

"We,"

Harry groaned in defeat, "something WE need to do. Professor, do you know where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?"

"The d – diadem of Ravenclaw?" McGonagall asked looking even more surprised, "Of course not – hasn't it been lost for centuries? Potter, it was madness, utter madness for you and your friends to come here-"

"We had to, Professor, there's something here we need to find and it could be the diadem." Harry insisted, fighting against her desire for us to run, even though we both knew she was only trying to keep us safe. It wouldn't make any difference though, we had to find the Horcrux, and Voldemort was on his way anyway, there was no way to escape this, it was supposed to happen.

"Maybe Professor Flitwick can help us," I suggested, determinedly, "surely if anyone ought to know it should be him."

Professor McGonagall didn't answer, a loud, pained groan sounded in the common room, coming from the floor where Harry had dropped Carrow, next to his Stupefied sister, he was coming back around. Before Harry, Luna or I could so much as raise our wands McGonagall pointed her own at Carrow and said, "Imperio," in a clear voice. Instantly Carrow jumped to his feet, obeying McGonagall's silent commands as he picked up his wand and his sister's from the floor and waddled over to McGonagall to hand it over, he then shuffled to stand beside his sister before laying down next to her. Professor McGonagall conjured a length of glittering silver robe then, and with a wave of her wand it bound its self around the two Carrows.

"Potter," McGonagall said tiredly, turning back to us, "if He Who Must Not Be Named really does know that you are here-" she cut off suddenly when Harry, hissing in pain, bent over double and clutched his scar in agony, Luna and I reached out for him immediately, offering our support and I turned to face McGonagall.

"There's no time, Professor," I explained, my voice straining as I fought to keep Harry upright and show that I was here for him, "we can't leave without what we came for, and there is no point once we have it, everything is coming to a head." I said, voicing the feelings that had been plaguing me since I had arrived here, "the end is coming."

"You've had a vision?" McGonagall asked nervously as she looked between a suffering Harry and my determination.

I shook my head, "No, this is just a feeling, but I trust it, one hundred per cent." I told her firmly and McGonagall looked at me for a moment, considering what I had said, before Harry returned to us with a spluttered gasp.

"Potter, are you all right?" McGonagall asked as Luna and I pulled on Harry's shoulders, keeping him from stumbling as he resurfaced.

"Time's running out, Voldemort's getting nearer. Professor, I'm acting on Dumbledore's orders, I must find what he wanted me to find! But we've got to get the students out while I'm searching the castle, Ivy is right; one way or another this is going to end today. It's me Voldemort wants, but he won't care about killing a few more or less, not now-" Harry said, struggling against his pain as he forced himself into an upright position, however, once more Harry looked exactly like the fearless leader we all knew he was, and once again I was proud he was my friend.

"You're acting on Dumbledore's orders?" McGonagall repeated, her expression alighting with something almost like wonder. "We shall secure the school against He Who Must Not Be Named, while you search for this object." she said, standing tall and resolute.

"Is that possible?" Harry asked, doubtfully.

"I think so," Professor McGonagall said with a healthy dose of sarcasm, "we teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure that we will be able to hold him off for a while if we all put our best efforts into it. Of course, something will have to be done about Professor Snape-"

"Let me-" Harry started lividly but McGonagall cut across him.

"- and if Hogwarts is about to enter into a state of siege, with the Dark Lord at the gates, it would indeed be advisable to take as many innocent people out of the way as possible. With the Floo Network under observation and Apparition impossible within the grounds-"

"There's a way," Harry put in, quickly explaining about the tunnel to the Hogshead, however, as soon as he began to speak a sudden jolt shot through me, sending me ramrod straight and shocking me completely as an otherworldly breeze drifted across the forefront of my mind. I was suspended in darkness for a moment, completely numb and oblivious, until my vision exploded forth, a quick, blinding flash of dark greys, blacks and shadows; however, in the seconds it lasted I caught glimpses of groups' small, robed figures sneaking through the night and disappearing into the darkness, making a break for freedom.

"Potter, we're talking about hundreds of students-" I heard McGonagall say as the future faded and I returned to the present, startled to find that once again I was still standing, that my temperamental Sight had seen fit for me to remain on my feet this time and thoroughly bewildered by that, however now wasn't the time.

"I know, Professor," Harry said as I lifted my hand to my head as the world span around me, but at least I hadn't passed out. My vision appeared to have gone unnoticed but for Luna, who looked at me with her knowing blue eyes and smiled. "But if Voldemort and his Death Eaters are concentrating on the school boundaries they won't be interested in a few people Dissaparating from Hogsmeade."

"It'll work," I said, still massaging my temples and gaining the attention, "I Saw them all escaping out of the village and there wasn't a single Death Eater in sight."

"There's something in that," Professor McGonagall agreed, before turning her wand on the Carrows again. A silver net erupted from her wand tip and covered their immobile forms, taking them inside of it before hoisting them up into the air. "Come. We must alert the other Heads of House. You'd better put that Cloak back on." She instructed, and joining Harry and Luna under the fabric of the Cloak we hurried after McGonagall as she strode forth, shooting three, identical cat Patronuses from her wand as she went. Warnings.

Huddled together, keeping as close to the indomitable Transfiguration teacher as we could, we raced through the corridors until once again, McGonagall came to a sudden stop, only this time she drew her wand, pointing it threateningly into the shadows. We stopped, our own wands clutched tightly in readiness, and waited.

"Who's there?" Professor McGonagall demanded.

"It is I." a low, familiar voice replied and slowly Severus Snape emerged from the darkness, looking as tall and haughty as the last time we had seen him. Beside me I felt Harry tense and lift his wand, reacting I reached out and grabbed his wrist, forcing it back down, I hated Snape as much as he did, but we wouldn't do McGonagall any favours by revealing ourselves.

"Where are the Carrows?" Snape asked quietly, his voice dangerous.

"Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus." McGonagall said evenly, however, Snape looked unconvinced and took another step towards her, his expression probing.

"I was under the impression that Alecto apprehended an intruder." He said, trying to trip her up into admitting she was up to something.

"Really? And what might give you that impression?" McGonagall asked, completely unfazed by his intimidating demeanour, Snape lifted his left arm and McGonagall almost scoffed, "oh, but naturally. You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication, I forgot."

Snape, while clearly not impressed by her words, didn't acknowledge them either, he scanned the corridor, searching as he again moved towards her and asked, "Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist-"

The speed Professor McGonagall moved shocked me, quick as a flash she lashed out, shooting a spell from her wand that ought to have beaten Snape, and would have done had he not erected a Shield Charm so quickly that not only was he saved but the spell rebounded back on Professor McGonagall and she stumbled backwards. Not deterred a livid McGonagall brandished her wand at the torch on the wall, which suddenly blew out of its bracket and spilled onto the floor, heading towards Luna, who was the closest to it under the Cloak. Harry and I reacted instinctively, together we grabbed hold of Luna and pulled her away from the falling flames, however, as we retreated franticly backwards, my foot caught on the end of the Cloak, stumbling I fell backwards, landing on the floor with a jarring thud as the Cloak was swept off me by Harry and Luna's retreat. There was nothing they could have done to stop in time, and opening my eyes after the fall I looked up to find Snape's dark gaze locked knowingly on me, sitting right in the middle of the corridor. Shhhiii….

Realising what had happened McGonagall swept her arm in a wide gesture, commanding the fire into a ring shape, which she the shot like a lasso at Snape. Scrambling backwards I desperately sought my wand, which had flown from my grip when I fell, watching McGonagall and Snape's duel all the while, unable to tear my gaze away from them. Snape deflected the fire, turning it into a great black snake as it neared him, but McGonagall dealt with that easily, turning the serpent to smoke before our eyes, and the burning blaze that had lit the corridor turned to a choking mist that temporarily blinded us all until McGonagall blew it away. She gathered all the thick smoke, morphing it into dozens of black, shinning daggers which she shot at Snape with a single whooshing gesture. My urgently searching fingers found my wand just as Snape saved himself my forcing a suit of armour in front of him, loud, echoing thwumps sounded out one after the other as the daggers sank into the metal.

"Minerva!" a squeaky voice cried from behind me and I recognised it instantly as Professor Flitwick, chancing a look away from the warring teachers I spotted him running up the corridor towards us, along with Professors Sprout and Slughorn, the latter of which was wheezing along behind the others. "No!" Flitwick cried out, his wand raised, "you'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!"

A jet of light erupted from Flitwick's wand and I followed it through the air with my eyes until it slammed into the suit of armour Snape was sheltering behind and suddenly, with a great shudder, the suit of armour came to life reached out for Snape. The usurper dodged its iron grip and turned his wand upon the suit of armour, sending it flying backwards towards his attackers, wide-eyed I had to duck low on the floor as it passed right over my head, causing those rushing up the corridor to scatter. Looking up I saw Snape hurtling away, he ran for all he was worth down the corridor with the other Professors hot in pursuit. "No!" I exclaimed at the thought of him getting away and quickly staggered to my feet, halfway up I felt fingers wrap around my elbow and help me, looking down I spotted Harry's dismembered hand clutching me as we hurried after the teachers.

"Coward!" I heard Professor McGonagall scream from inside the classroom Snape had fled into, "COWARD!"

Harry ripped the Invisibility Cloak off himself and Luna as we neared the classroom, skidding to a stop beside the door we saw all four Heads of House standing beside the broken window, shooting curses out into the night.

"He jumped," McGonagall exclaimed as we raced inside to see what had happened.

"You mean he's dead?" Harry asked and we all ignored the surprised shouts the other teachers gave at the sight of us.

"No, he's not dead," McGonagall said regretfully, "unlike Dumbledore he still had his wand when he fell… and it seems he's been taking lessons from his master."

Dread and anger filling me up I started towards the window, feeling my stomach twist at the sight of a small black shape flying across the sky, he'd gotten away, he was free and running straight to his master, who would now have complete confirmation that we were here.

"Here we go," I said bitterly, still staring out the window until Harry hissed in pain.

"Professor!" he exclaimed urgently, wincing as yet more pain shot across his scalp and he doubled over with the sheer force of it. Collectively we all turned towards him as Harry resurfaced from Voldemort's mind, "Professor, we need to barricade the school, he's on his way."

Dread pulled me upright, back straight and head held high I felt Harry's words and the gravity I had been feeling for hours, really sink in. Voldemort was coming, Snape was on his way to him now, he knew we were here and what we were after so there would be no holding back, if Voldemort had ever possessed any mercy that would vanish now, everything he had achieved was at stake and he would do anything to stop us. All that was left for us to do, all that we could do, was to get everyone out of here as fast as we could and secure the school, however, what happened after that was inevitable, the final fight was upon us, we couldn't hold Voldemort off forever and he would get through or defences eventually. It was time now, for everyone to pick their side, done their battle colours, and fight for the fate of our world, and as I stood there, the sharp night air spilling in through the open window blowing my hair around my face, I knew there was still one more of Voldemort's supporters left at Hogwarts, one more Death Eater to deal with.

**Draco**

Biting his lip against the pain shooting through his left forearm Draco scowled up at the black hangings over his four-poster bed, hot and flustered Draco had been in the same position for hours, even before his master started calling for him. The emerald bedcovers, pulled down to his waist and exposing his bare chest in an attempt to keep cool, were fisted tightly in his hands as he lay there, his head throbbing is much as his arm as his thoughts assaulted him. Draco hadn't had a moment's peace since that morning, when Amycus Carrow had burst into Snape's office to tell him Ivy and Potter had broken into Gringotts, desperate for information Draco had abandoned his lessons for the day without a second thought, none of his teachers would mind his absence, he wasn't exactly a well-loved member of the school, and had fruitlessly spent the day searching for even the barest, faintest whisper of what had happened to her, and pacing franticly every second in-between. And he still didn't know, Draco thought, keeping his clenching fists digging into the bed sheets, lest he succumb to the desire to pull his hair out in distress. No one, not a single Death Eater was prepared to give him any answers on the Gringotts break in, not the Carrows, not the guards at the gates, not his parents, who he had written to in desperation and hadn't really expected them to respond, and certainly not Snape. Snape, Draco snarled as he thought the Headmasters name, had returned to the school just a few short hours after he had ushered Draco from his office and ran off to help control this failure, however, the sadistic Death Eater had swept straight to his office once he was back and had refused to see anyone, especially Draco, who had headed up to see Snape under the pretence of carrying on their earlier conversation. He had been furious then and his anger had only intensified throughout the day, it was maddening, Draco was sure that he would go insane at any moment and it was killing him not to know what had happened to her.

Listening bitterly at the sound of sleeping Slytherins that echoed through the dormitory Draco was in half a mind to ignore this summons, to stay here and flick the proverbial two fingers at his so called master, even if that meant staying here alone with his fears looming over him, like the Carrows yesterday while they punished his betrayal. However, Draco knew he could do no such thing; to ignore the Dark Mark was to ignore Voldemort and to do so was suicide, and despite of the current sorry state of his life, Draco would have quite liked to continue living. But more than that, he couldn't deny that answering this summons would give him the change to find something out about what had happened to Ivy and Gringotts today, odds were that was what this meeting was even about, as what else could possibly have happened in one day? So, drawn out by the promise of information but hating every second of his servitude, Draco quickly and agitatedly rose from his bed, dressed silently so as not to disturb the other boys in his dormitory, and slipped into the common room and out onto the dungeons corridor without being noticed.

The dark corridor was silent as Draco made his way along it, creeping along cautiously even though he knew no one would stop him if they found him, given where he was headed. Draco's stance was ridged, his frown immovable as he reached the staircase that led up to the next level and took to the steps with slow, precise movements, drawing out each action as he grudgingly headed out to see what Voldemort wanted. In actual truth Draco couldn't have cared less, it was unlikely that it would concern him, the meetings rarely did these days unless they were to punish and belittle him for his 'betrayal', of late Draco just seemed to stand there, in his designated spot, trying not to draw too much attention to himself and being glared at by the others. As he had said before, the only thing he stood to gain from heeding the call was his continued existence and much converted information on Ivy. Reach the Entrance Hall Draco's stride remained unwilling, reluctant, but nevertheless he carried on, walking across the torch lit room, which he was surprised to find was actually empty, there was usually a Carrow or two loitering around here, looking for students to pray on. However, not tonight and Draco had his tight gaze fixed upon the door to the grounds until he neared the Grand Staircase and something made him pause. Footsteps, fast and frantic sounded out as something raced upwards, casting shadows downwards as they ran. Suddenly captivated Draco looked up, seeing the faint outline of a distinctly feminine shadow cast against the wall, shining golden in the torch light, and the bottom of a set of dark purple robes, as they disappeared around the corner.

In that instant, Draco was overcome by the intense urge to follow the figure hastening upwards, a desperate desire to find out who it was who was braving the Hogwarts Death Eaters to go wherever they needed to go. This impulse, this need, was so fierce in its nature that it startled Draco, shocking him from his mesmerised state and causing him to look away from the staircases quickly. It's probably just a student, a member of the D.A most likely, he told himself sternly, and as Anna's friend had proved last night, though of course he had already known it, D.A members weren't fond of him. What good would chasing after shadows do him, especially when those shadows wouldn't think twice about cursing him? No good at all, and with the footsteps still echoing loudly on the stairs, Draco turned his back on the staircase and added the sound of his own shoes clacking on flagstones to the percussion symphony, and headed in the opposite direction, even though he could feel something inside him tugging at him, trying to pull him backwards. Had Draco been more inclined to think about such things, he might have recognised the familiar tugging cord that linked his heart to one other's.

As he reached the door, Draco took hold of the great metal ring that served as the handle and heaved it open, just enough for him to slip through. Not looking back over his shoulder a sombre Draco closed the door behind him with an audible thud, before starting down the steps into the grounds. For some unknown reason, presumably to stop Order members and Harry Potter getting in, Snape hadn't lifted the enchantments that prevented apparition within the grounds of Hogwarts, even for those bearing a Dark Mark, so, whenever the Dark Lord summoned his 'loyal servants' to him they had to go beyond the school gates to follow the order. It was damn inconvenient, but Draco was certainly in no rush to get to Voldemort, and the walk provided him with an excuse to take his time.

The night was calm, peaceful, a subtle, hint of wind blew through the grounds, toying with the strands of blond hair on Draco's forehead, but it wasn't strong enough to do more than cool this pleasant May night. Draco didn't know what time it was, he had long since given up clockwatching and had snapped at the elegant grandfather clock in the dormitory, clunking away and chiming every hour. He didn't know how the others could sleep through it; he couldn't even stand it while he was awake! Anyway, he had cast a silencing charm on the clock, using his last scraps of self-control before he could give in blast the wretched thing to pieces, so he didn't know what time it was now, but presumed it was nearing midnight. Lip curling in disgust and the most acute feeling of aversion filling him, Draco reached the gates, called out to the guards in a snipper tone than usual, and waited while they fumbled to open them. It wasn't the same pair who had been there when he snuck in during the Easter Holidays, but like the others they weren't exactly impressive. One, a squat, weedy looking man, bowed respectfully to Draco as he passed through the gates in a way that made the young Malfoy feel extremely uncomfortable, unhappy with the honour he didn't feel like he deserved. And the others, a woman with black hair that seemed to shine almost purple, smiled at him invitingly. They both knew why he was here, they both knew he had been called, they had felt there Marks burn too, he knew it, however, these two had their own responsibilities and were too low down in the ranks to be required to attend to the Dark Lord. Given the ferocity of the burning every Death Eater could discern who would be going, and tonight the pain had been blinding, there would be only the top most Death Eaters there.

Draco didn't say a single word to either of them, and still scowling with his reluctance Draco strode away, closing his eyes and focusing on the roaring fire burning on his arm, they never knew exactly where Voldemort wanted them to be, but to focus on his Mark while they apparated would take them straight to where he was. Draco apparated, the crushing sense weighing down on him heavily until he gained the relief, it seemed that way for a short while anyway, of arriving at his destination. Shock shot through Draco when he opened his eyes, this wasn't what he was expecting at all. Draco found himself, already standing in his usual position in the circle, with his mother and father on either side, in the middle of a rocky cave, a cave that was located high in the mountains given the midnight blue sky that stretched on as far as the eye could see beyond the cave mouth. But that wasn't all, from his position in the circle Draco could see straight out beyond the cave, and there, silhouetted black against the night sky, was Hogwarts castle, he was in a cave in the mountains just beyond Hogsmeade, with the other Death Eaters. Dread, steady and trickling, filled him for no obvious reason Draco could place, but for whatever reason, being here, summoned to Voldemort so close to Hogwarts, it unnerved him, he didn't like it and he knew no good would come of it.

The Dark Lord hadn't appeared yet, and looking around the circle of his disdainful colleagues Draco could see that neither had any of the others from Hogwarts, Snape and both Carrows were absent. Strange, Draco thought, frowning as this sense of foreboding that plagued him only increased, and ignoring his mother as she made an attempt to speak with him, Draco had no interest in talking to either her or his father, it wasn't shame or even rage all that much, he simply couldn't bring himself to look at the people who had raised him into this. The other Death Eaters, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle etc., they were all shifting and talking restlessly, muttering questions to each other and growling over Potter's latest escape. Listening to their discussion of today's events Draco felt himself relax somewhat, Potter had escaped and, more importantly, so had Ivy, and if nothing else that made this trip worthwhile.

The crowd of Death Eaters fell suddenly silent, and immediately Draco realised why, someone else was apparating into their midst, they could here the distinctive crack and then with no more fanfare, of course, he was intimidating enough as it was and didn't need it, Voldemort appeared in the centre of the circle. And he didn't look impressed. No, forget that, the monstrous snake-man looked positively livid as he stared at the circle of Death Eaters around them, and many of their number cringed, fearing he might let out one of his infamous Killing Curses just to state his anger. He didn't, calming his face that had looked like thunder Voldemort reigned in his emotions, his obvious rage bubbling just below the surface and making him no less frightening for it. Something had bothered him, Draco observed warily, something more than just Potter's escape, and everyone here knew it.

"Where is Snape?" Voldemort demanded, spinning around and surveying each of the Death Eaters in turn before his ruby gaze landed on Draco and tightened, "where is he?"

"I don't know," Draco answered, truthfully as he didn't know what was keeping Snape, but with more cheek than was necessary. Rage flashed in Voldemort's eyes. Their usually emotionless master had reached his edge.

"Do not lie to be, traitor!" Voldemort exclaimed, starting towards Draco, his wand drawn as though he would kill him on the spot, Narcissa shrieked and Draco cringed but the blow never came.

"My Lord!" Narcissa exclaimed desperately, her wide blue eyes leaving her son to look out at something beyond the mouth of the cave, something Draco couldn't see for Voldemort's raging form. "My Lord, Snape is there!" she pleaded desperately and Voldemort turned away from Draco instantly, whatever he wanted from Snape obviously even more important than making the blond suffer.

Allowing himself a sigh of relief, actually shaken by Voldemort's almost attack, Draco looked around his master to see him, and everyone else gathered there, looking out into the night, where a large, bat like shape was flying towards them. Draco, like the majority of the other Death Eaters, looked on in dumb surprise, however, Voldemort and Narcissa didn't. The shape grew nearer and with a sudden realisation that made him want to gape, Draco realised it was Snape, flying like Voldemort could, unsupported in the sky. Snape came to land on the edge, looking thoroughly unruffled if slightly windswept, and strode confidently towards a still fuming Voldemort. Draco didn't know whether to be relieved at the distraction Snape provided, or furious at him for ignoring him all day, and in a manner that would have well befitted the girl he loved, he chose the latter.

"Snape," Voldemort said, his voice a strange mixture of commanding, dangerous and desperate, it was a combination Draco was sure didn't bode well, "Where is he? Do the Carrows have him? Is the school secure?"

"No my Lord, the school is not secure," Snape said gravely as he swept towards his master, whose grip tightened around the wand he held, however, Draco paid little attention to that, as the words of both men started to sink in. He? There was only one he Voldemort could care this much about the Carrows having potentially caught, and that was Potter, and if the school wasn't secure did that mean that Potter was inside it? Draco's heartbeat picked up with hope and fear, wherever Potter was Ivy was never far behind, but it wasn't safe for her there, especially not now.

"I was forced to leave when the teachers rebelled against me, which they would only do if Potter was there to cause dissention, I can only assume they have dealt with the Carrows also." Snape said and a rumble of muttering and furious hissing echoed around the cave from the Death Eaters, the emerald flames that illuminated the darkness casting shadows on their faces and making them look even more grotesque than Draco knew they were.

"Did you see Potter yourself?" Voldemort asked, sounding very clearly livid as Snape joined him in the centre of the wide circle.

"I did not, but I saw the Seer, Jones," Snape said and Draco's head shot up, fear so profound that he was surprised he was still standing rocketing though him, and his gaze fixed firmly upon Snape as the older wizard drew his wand and muttered a spell under his breath.

Grey smoke drifted from his wand tip, hanging thick and heavy as Draco's heart in the air, and once he had enough Snape drew a hallow circle with the gathered mist, which, with a few more spoken words, turned a brilliant silver and grew a surface like a mirror in the middle. Draco felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched the image that appeared there, Ivy, her mahogany hair a wild mess around her face and shoulders, her wide brown eyes reflecting golden flames and her cheeks flushed with heat as she desperately scrambled backwards, her expression both desperate and determined. Draco's heart plummeted, instantly, like the heavy lump of ice he had always been assured it was it sank to the floor. Salazar have mercy, it was true, she was there, in Hogwarts, fighting with something, and now Voldemort knew about it. It took everything he had not to apparate in that instant, to run back to her and tell her to get the bloody hell away from that place before they got to her, before they killed her or worse, but he didn't, quivering with a hatred so strong that it shook his very bones Draco stared murderously at Snape and Voldemort, but knew he could do Ivy much more use standing here, gaining information and deterring them.

"And wherever the Seer is," Snape said, vanishing the image of Ivy with a flick of his wand, which turned the glistening mirror back to smoke which evaporated immediately, "Potter usually is too."

"Indeed," Voldemort said, sounding thoughtful in the most dangerous kind of way, it was a voice that had the hair at the back of Draco's neck standing on end, as he knew well enough by now that whatever Voldemort was thinking about wouldn't mean any good for anyone.

"My Lord," Bellatrix suddenly put in, with breathless enthusiasm in her raspy voice, "allow me my Lord, get me into Hogwarts and I promise you I shall bring you back both their piteous, lifeless corpses to lie down at your feet." Bellatrix said grandly, as though promising him a shiny diamond ring or the world, not to death of two young wizards. And once again, Draco felt the savage urge to curse his aunt.

"No," Voldemort said forcefully, though there was a hint of hysterical distress beneath his voice, he was worried about something, Draco realised, while fighting his own fuming rage, "Potter must not be harmed, I shall be the one to kill him, the Mudblood however, will clearly be of no use to me," Voldemort decided and Draco desperately wanted to cry out in outrage, no, he screamed in internal distress, no, this couldn't be, "but I do not wish her to meet her end by your hands, Bellatrix." Voldemort said, seeming to be putting an end to that conversation though Draco, half mad with protective fury, wouldn't have that, and was about to demand he tell Draco what he meant by that, when Voldemort continued,

"Potter must not be allowed to find what is hidden at Hogwarts," Voldemort said, that tense edge returning to his voice though Draco had bigger problems than that, "I am confident he will no succeed, but he must not be given the chance to. We must prepare an attack," Voldemort said, looking at his Death Eaters who nodded in agreement, "but first, there is something that must be done," he said, his suddenly cold and amused gaze landed on Draco, who was twitching with the effort it took to restrain himself. "I believe there is still a matter between you and I that needs to be contended with." Voldemort said, his expression perilous as he fixed his red gaze one Draco and swept towards the reluctant Death Eater, who held his head high in defiance, menacingly.

"You will prove to me, Draco, that you are truly a faithful servant," Voldemort said, pausing there and smiling a terrible, lethal smile that had Draco's blood boiling with rage, "and you will do it by eliminating the one thing that threatens your loyalty to me, that which has caused you to betray your master. You must kill Ivy Jones."

**Author note: Evil aren't I? ;) I really enjoyed writing this chapter, you know, so I hope you guys enjoyed it too, and yes, I am aware that the end bit could have done with some more work, but, I was so excited to get this up I simply couldn't wait. What did you think? **

**Also, a massive thanks to Ikari No Ojo for the annoymous review! Much love darling. x  
**


	30. Great Truth and Misconceptions

**Author note: I know, I know! I'm terrible, this really shouldn't have taken me so long but…I don't know, I kind of struggled with this, hopefully it doesn't show too much. Anyway, please enjoy.**

**Chapter thirty: Great Truth and Misconceptions**

**"In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies." - Winston Churchill**

**Ivy**

The light from the floating candles in the Great Hall did nothing to dispel the thick, dark shadows that seemed to grow in the corners of the room, ever present and disconcerting, like the danger that lurked just out of our line of sight. The Hall was a hive of nervous activity, frightened students, robed in dressing gowns of comfortable colours; no longer groggy from sleep had wide, innocent eyes as they huddled close together at their House Tables. Strong-minded teachers, standing tall upon the platform where their table usually was, put on brave faces for the sake of their students, battling their own fears and grim expressions as thousands of grave and deadly matters ran through their minds, all to be considered, so much at stake. The Order members stood with them, each familiar face calculating, planning, thinking how best to protect everyone, and by their increasingly strained expressions, struggling with it. Even the ghosts, floating serenely about the room, had an increased gravity and severity to them. No one spoke, not even to mutter anxiously to their friends, the attention of every student, teacher and ghost in the Great Hall was upon Professor McGonagall, as she gave out the instructions that could be the difference between life and death.

"…evacuation will be overseen by Mr Filch and Madam Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organise your house and take your charges, in an orderly fashion, to the evacuation point." Professor McGonagall said, her sharp, controlled voice ringing out clear across the silent Hall.

The atmosphere in the room was tangible, standing as I was, straight-backed and tense against the wall behind the Gryffindor table; I could feel the fear that seeped through the Hall like a gas, oozing from all the wide eyed and terrified students who had been roused from their beds by this terrible news. I could feel the determination too, sharp and fierce like an electrical charge it crackled over our heads and whipped us up into a furious frenzy, coiling our muscles to spring forth and fight at any second and setting our faces in steely masks. Both emotions raged inside of me, I had accepted the inevitable battle and now I was ready for it, my fingers wouldn't leave the Hawthorn wand even for a second and as I looked around, sharing looks with Harry and other young freedom fighters I saw my own resolve mirrored back at me in their eyes. We were ready.

Regardless of my firm determination though, I couldn't escape the same nerves that crippled the others, dread, heavy and painful twisted in my stomach, making me shift anxiously on legs that were shaking so much it was a wonder I was still standing. I wanted to fight, to bring about Voldemort's end, as much as I ever had, to finish the creature who had tortured me and so many others, but now the time had finally come, my fear was undeniable. But that wasn't all, those fears I could have handled, the terror that constricted my heart now was more than I had ever had to stand before. But I would bear it, now wasn't the time for letting this next great betrayal get to me, I didn't know now I could still be surprised by it, but for whatever reason I had been, and it only added to the anxiety I had been feeling since the realisation that we would have to fight.

That doesn't matter though, I thought, knocking my hair out of my eyes with a stiff jerk of my head and sticking out my chin resolutely, I'm not going to give in to it, I can be as scared as I like but it won't make a difference, I will stand by my friends and put an end to this monster. No matter the cost, I added, gulping in spite of myself as I felt myself scowl and turned my head away from the direction of one particular house. Something more than just dread in my stomach, something dreadful and sickening.

"And what if we want to stay and fight?" Ernie Macmillan called from the Hufflepuff table, standing up tall and earning himself a roar of applause and cries of agreement. Roused from my thoughts I blinked a few times and held my head higher, smiling wickedly at the response of the students, they were with us.

"If you are of age you may stay," Professor McGonagall said diplomatically, but obviously adamant that no one younger would be staying, and for the most part I agreed with that, though I was sure Ginny would not. McGonagall's decree was met with varied reactions, several of the younger students looked relieved and still very edgy, obviously anxious to leave, while there were plenty of underage students who frowned and argued, while pride and grim determination puffed up many older chests as they decided to stay and fight.

"They're not here either," Harry muttered worriedly, sliding closer to me as he spoke, I nodded in agreement but looked no less troubled and went back to searching the room with my eyes.

Hermione and Ron were missing, they had slipped out of the Room of Requirement not long after I had left, by all accounts, and no one knew where they were. It was disconcerting and Harry and I didn't like it. And yes, I was aware of just how hypercritical that was considering how I had ran off and left them without explaining, but still, this didn't help the ominous feeling in my stomach. He wouldn't do that though, I told myself unconvincingly, he wouldn't use them to get to me, this was between me and him no matter how the little voice in the back of my head told me that nothing was too immoral for him, that I ought to know that by now I had to cling to that belief, for the sake of my sanity. Feeling cold and nauseated I tried to shake the thought away and focus on scanning the Hall, just in case, even though I desperately wanted find Ron and Hermione, to have them here with me now, to know they were safe.

"We'll find them," I muttered back, still scanning the Hall but missing out one place purposefully, pointedly keeping my gaze away from there. I wanted to leave now, they clearly weren't here, Harry was right, no matter how many times we looked around here they weren't going to suddenly appear. We needed to get out of here now, to leave so that we could look properly, we already knew McGonagall's plans, we had helped her and the teachers come up with them on our way down here, surely we could leave now to try and find the others. I knew that we couldn't though, no matter how much it frustrated me now and how wound up and restless I was, Harry was the Chosen One, the figure head for this entire thing as well as the driving force behind it, they needed to see him, all the students and Order members, to know that he was here and therefore what all this meant.

"What about our things?" a young Ravenclaw girl asked nervously, "Our trunks, our owls?"

"We have no time to collect possessions," she said and this time I agreed with her one hundred per cent, none of that mattered now, "The important thing is to get you out of here safely." As she spoke my wandering gaze flicked to the doors, half expecting (though hoping might have been a more appropriate word) them to open and reveal Ron and Hermione, or someone else entirely, they didn't, and another voice soon captured my scattered attention.

"Where's Professor Snape," a Slytherin girl asked, scowling at the line of teachers and Order members standing behind McGonagall on the platform, where the greasy haired creep was distinctly absent.

"He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk," Professor McGonagall said and cheers and clapping thundered through the Hall in response, elated the school celebrated Snape's flight, pleased to finally be shot of him. Unsurprisingly, the only students who weren't thrilled by the news were the Slytherins, and out of the corner of my eye I watched as a wave of confused and furious expressions swept down their table.

Heart catching I wanted to look away, to stare at the far wall or Professor McGonagall instead, but I couldn't, I had to see, to know if my suspicions were right. That sickly feeling niggling away at me I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself and my heart, which was racing in my chest, you already know what you're going to see, I told myself firmly, there was no way to misinterpret that vision, it had to be true. Regardless of that though, there was still a part of me, and a fairly dominant part at that, that desperately wanted me to be wrong. It was the same part that believed that he would never attack Hermione and Ron to get to me, but it struggled to convince me, cynicism, suspicion and just too much hurt and misery drowned it out. Chest rising and falling, a visible sign of my reluctance and fear, I stood there, perfectly still with my arms folded across my chest and a hard expression in place as I scanned the Slytherin table, making my way from the top end downwards, heading towards the door with my eyes. I was meticulous, jumping at every blond head, but at the same time, my eyes strained and blurred with effort, I couldn't seem to see properly for some reason and it was almost as if my eyes didn't want to look, didn't want to see what I knew I surely would. I made them though, I had to know, no matter how much I didn't want to, or how much I was torturing myself by forcing myself to do this, my battered heart pumped desperately in my chest, struggling, and every laboured breath I took shook my body. I was halfway down the table when I saw them, Crabbe and Goyle, their round faces clouded with confusion as they stared, bewilderedly, at the spare space in-between them.

My heart sank in time with my eyelids falling shut, a coldness spread from my lips outwards, chilling every inch of me as I realised I had been right, that my vision had been exactly what it looked like. The ill feeling increased tenfold, I wanted to vomit, to get all these emotions out of me somehow, to be rid of this earth shattering sense of betrayal. How could I even still feel betrayed? How could I possibly be surprised at all? It was a mystery and one I would sell my soul to solve. I wanted to cry, but I didn't, I laughed instead, hysterical giggles erupted from my lips, even to my ears they sounded like hiccupping sobs, but they weren't, I was laughing. Oh course it had been real, I thought, still giggling as I opened my eyes and shook my head, of course that was where he was, my laughter died then and the next sound to escape my lips really was a sob, hopeless tears welled in my eyes as I continued to shake my head. Bastard, I thought, I should have known anyway that you'd go running to your master, it's not like doing the right thing has ever been important to you before. Harry was looking at me worriedly, and a few Gryffindor heads had turned at my hysterical laughter, but that didn't matter, I ignored them all, feeling a fire alight in the frozen wasteland this discovery had made of my heart. It burned inside of me, rushing through my veins and melting away the ice that had slivered along my skin, hardening my expression and flesh with a new fury. He'd gone to his master, heeding the call of the Mark that Snape had been talking about, like deep down I had known he always would, his absence from here proved that, it proved my vision.

I ought to have raged, I wanted to, I wanted to snap, to storm around and throw things, but I didn't, I stayed firmly where I was, a steely calm encompassing me, a hard outer layer was forming around me now, hiding the molten core of my fury that I was sure was only visible now in my blazing eyes and fisted hands. I ought to have been afraid, to want to run and hide, Malfoy had the might of Voldemort behind him, I had only me and my friends and I couldn't drag them into this, like I had said, this was between him and me. But I wasn't, I wasn't afraid at all, just ridiculously mad, and at the same time, oddly glad, I was PLEASED that it had come down to this, that I could finally get my revenge.

From this point on I had to forget every 'nice' thing Malfoy had ever done for me, every kind word or action, every fond memory, every kiss, I had to let go of my inane belief that there was something good in him, despite everything he had done to prove otherwise, I had to forget how he had helped me escape Malfoy Manner, and hold onto only my hatred for him. I couldn't afford even the slightest bit of softness towards him, not any more, not now he was a threat. Voldemort was a twisted monster, I thought almost laughing hysterically again, but he knew how to punish someone, how to make something as painful as possible, he knew exactly where my soft spot was and was plunging a dagger straight into it, but I wouldn't cringe, I was ready, preparing a blow of my own. My vision had tipped me off, while I hadn't wanted to believe it I had always known that it was true, that I wasn't misreading things, ever since I had had it on the way down here, and Malfoy's absence had just confirmed it. I had a head start, a warning, I knew exactly what Voldemort had ordered Malfoy to do and I knew, even though I hadn't seen it, that Malfoy would carry out that order, he was too frightened to do anything else. The game began now, I thought, a smile that had more than a little insanity to it, curling my lips, cat and mouse, him and me, but I was ready, I was prepared, when Malfoy came for me I would be waiting. If Voldemort wanted me dead he'd have to do it himself, because I certainly wasn't going to let Draco Malfoy do it.

Cheers, and clapping, echoed loudly in the Great Hall, penetrating the bubble of silence that had separated me from the noise ever since I had realised Malfoy wasn't in his place, it shocked from my dark and pensive place and I did my best not to look startled. I joined in with the clapping instantly, even though I didn't know why, and head held high with a new determination I turned to look towards McGonagall but spotted Harry instead, he was closer to me now and had his arm almost wrapped around my shoulders and there was an expression of deep concern on his tired face. Smiling at him reassuringly, though from the way his brows furrowed even more I guessed I just looked crazy, I tried to look normal, like I hadn't just seen a vision that Malfoy had been commanded to murder me, or just found out, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was really happening, and focused on Professor McGonagall again.

"…we have already placed protection around the castle, but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects-"

Professor McGonagall didn't get to finish though, as too things happened simultaneously before she could, a cold, clear voice that sent a shiver of fear through the entire hall, inspiring a few terrified shrieks as it echoed from all around us. Seeming to come from the walls themselves it sounded from everywhere. And I started to feel dizzy.

"I know you are preparing to fight," Voldemort hissed dangerously and the students screamed properly this time, I didn't react at all, not to the monster addressing us all anyway, I was too busy trying to battle of my dizziness as a fresh wave of nausea rolled my stomach and I had to lift a hand to my spinning head, "Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts." Voldemort said and I could almost hear the sly, wolfish grin in his voice, though by that point I wasn't even sure how I was still standing as my head was whirling that much, I couldn't see properly anymore and I was sure I was going to pass out any second. "I do not want to spill magical blood."

A deafening silence rang out as Voldemort paused for dramatic effect but I couldn't appreciate it, I felt as though I were falling and pressing myself right up against the wall, letting it take all my weight, I felt that supernatural breeze drift across the front of my brain and a vision claim me. My Sight deceived me, what I saw next was so dark and featureless that I was sure that I was hanging in that impenetrable blackness that preceded my vision, however, I was shocked from that assumption by the lighting of a wand tip beside me. Professor McGonagall, stood there, her stern, straight face a steady mask of resolve as she looked over the battlements her wand light illuminated, she squinted as she stared out into the darkness, however, even as she struggled to see, the sky was lightening in the distance, the early predawn glow of summer, but this too was a trick, I felt that deep in my bones. More deception from the Powers That Be, yes dawn was approaching, but it wasn't nearly as good an omen as it implied. Something bad was coming, and fast, something as dark and dangerous as the grey-black darkness of midnight, that eerie blackness that seemed to hide monsters and demons within its shadowy depths, something merciless, something hungry, was coming, and here, with my heighted senses, I knew it was coming.

"Stand ready," McGonagall said though her voice was unsure, slightly strained and frustrated as she looked out at the dim grounds and saw nothing that hinted at an attack, unable to understand it. As she backed away from the battlements, her sharp eyes narrowed and suspicious while she continued to scan the grounds and skies, the golden glow cast by her wand illuminated a gang of frightened, determined looking people, students and Order members both, gathered behind her, wands drawn and looking ready for a fight.

We stood there, me invisible to all the nervous but resolute troops standing around me, for a moment more before I started to shiver. The change was steady at first, but soon the temperature began to plummet rapidly. I frowned in confusion as the Hogwartians' breath came out in white mist, I wasn't really there and could leave no physical imprint on this future so I was the only one exempt from this, but I still felt the chill, cold and icy as it wrapped its self around my bear arms and neck, rising goosebumps and far too frosty for a summers night. Unease, firm and suspicious, quickly rose inside of me, something wasn't right, and with an ever growing sense of trepidation, I turned away from the fighters, who were now shifting nervously, looking increasingly frightened, and stared warily over my shoulder, out into the shadowy night time gloom. Something really wasn't right, I thought, staring ahead searchingly as my heart wrenched agonisingly with an old pain, a few staggered whimpers sounded behind me, McGonagall flexed readily beside me and slowly, it dawned on me. No, I thought, quickly gathering all my strength and trying to battle off the attacking emotions, but even prepared as I was, I still couldn't stop the fierce feeling of betrayal that shook me to my core for the second time tonight. Almost cringing with the raw, agony of it I scowled deeply, it was a vision, just a vision, how could they possibly affect me like this in a vision? I asked myself, half furious, half distressed as I grit my teeth against the searing hopelessness and that sickening memory of how I had been used and lied to, I fought against it though, the pain was still sharp but it was dulled somewhat by the fact this wasn't really happening, the effect lessened somewhat I forced myself the push it all aside and stand tall, set for when they came.

I was shivering as I stood there on the tower, suppressing the memories flooding my mind, a summers day, a passionate kiss, a heated argument, every little thing about the day I found out what Draco Malfoy was really like was springing up clear as day in my head, creating such a complete and vivid picture of the very thing I did my best to forget, for the sake of the mission and my peace of mind, that almost overcame me. I refused to give in though, and trembling, be it from effort or from the cold I didn't know, I pulled myself out of my own misery, telling myself resolutely that it wasn't real, I wasn't really here, and that I'd put all that to bed for now, that despite the way the betrayal continued even now, it didn't hurt that much, I focused on the vision again. The whimpers were actual cries now, terrified little sounds as the fighters were attacked psychologically, their opponents, not even in sight yet. They weren't prepared, I thought despairingly as I looked back at them, faces as young as mine contorted with fear as their own worst memory was relived inside them, and McGonagall's fervent calls for them to keep strong were wasted, they were too far gone, too lost in their own horrors. They hadn't been ready.

Movement, my heightened senses picked it up behind me and I span, about to spring into action even though there was nothing I could possibly do. At first I couldn't see anything in the dense darkness, the early stages of dawn just visible on the horizon were hours away from us yet, and nothing seemed to be moving in the night. The pounding of my heart and the blood in my veins, along with the sobs of the tormented students and grownups behind me, where the only sounds up here, but I knew better, this was my vision, I was in my element, I could tell there was something terrible coming and I knew exactly what it was. My expression was harsh, I wore the face of a warrior as I stared out into the night, the fierce, unnatural wind billowing around me, my hair was like a battle flag that only I could see, whipped up in the frozen winds the approaching menace had created. Of course I knew what they were, the uncertainty and the panic it caused, this sudden fear and climate change, which they KNEW only frightened the fighters all the more, that slow, maddening torture, ended abruptly, replaced instead by a new terror entirely.

"Look there!" a young, female voice behind me yelled and my narrowed gaze, which had been scanning the darkness with as much desperation as anyone else here, snapped in the direction she pointed just as a collective shriek echoed from the petrified Hogwartians and a shrouded figure, a denser shade of black than that surrounding it, swooped towards us. At the sight of the Dementor a thrill of horror shot through me, the agonising emotions they had been toying with earlier doubled tenfold. I wanted to cringe, to double over with the sheer force of the betrayal I felt, how could he? I wanted to scream at the wind, after all he's done to me, how could he be so cruel as to inflict more pain upon me. A jolt of sensation tore through me, so powerful that I was shocked from the frozen, frightened moonlit tower, and thrown back into the deadly silent hall, which buzzed with as much nervous fear as the tower had.

I gasped for breath as I came back around, the shadowy light of the Great Hall seeming blinding after the dismal darkness of the battlements; it sent a burst of sweet, fresh hope through my shaken body, just at the sight of it. Leaning against the wall I looked up, my long brown hair falling over my shoulder with the movement, as I realised that I was supported entirely by the grey stone behind me, but that I hadn't fallen over again, I drew yet more satisfaction from that thought. It wasn't enough though, these small successes, they weren't though to banish the chill the Dementors had coated me in, even diluted though it had been through my vision, they had still devastated my emotions, and still, I was shaking. My gaze flicked left and right, taking in the wide eyed and terrified students, still dressed in their pyjamas, the floating ghosts, who seemed just as frightened by the voice of Voldemort as any of the living, I saw the teachers and Order members, some of whom had drawn their wands reflexively and all of whom were scowling up at the ceiling, and I saw Harry, his hands curled into trembling fists and a look of single minded determination on his face as he waited for his enemy to carry on. It doesn't matter, I told myself, glad that no one had seen me slip into my vision and pushing myself up with the wall before stepping forwards, standing right beside my friend. The Dementors and my own feelings aren't the most important thing right now, they can be dealt with later, this monster, cannot. Of course, it was easier said than done to banish such crippling emotions, strong though I liked to think I was, I couldn't get rid of them entirely, put I put on a good front and tried to ignore the steady pain in my chest, as my precariously patched up heart broke all over again.

"Give me Harry Potter," the malevolent, disembodied voice continued, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you shall be rewarded." There was another pause for dramatic effect; while Voldemort let his words sink in and I stood there, in absolute numbness for a moment, trying to detach myself from one set of emotions while even more flooded inside of me, hardly even able to understand the concept as hundreds of eyes turned in our direction. "You have until midnight." Voldemort concluded and the hall fell silent once more, but only for the second it took one repulsive Slytherin girl to get to her feet.

"But he's there! Potter's there! Someone grab him!" Pansy Parkinson shrieked, her pug face twisted as she yelled the words and pointed Harry out. My friend opened his mouth to speak, to plead his case, but before he could utter a single word I stepped in front of him, standing between Harry and the rest of the school I scowled, the full force of ferocious rage I felt oozing from me as I made the most of how murderously betrayed I felt. More than one student flinched under my harsh gaze as I glared out across the Hall, silently warning them all before fixing my gaze and my wand on Parkinson. I snarled,

"I bloody dear you," with a much menace as I could manage, which was a considerable amount given how I felt.

Parkinson didn't say anything, she didn't get the chance to, the rest of the school provided her with just enough time to look scornfully at me before there was a rush of movement. The Gryffindors sat down at the table in front of us, were on their feet in an instant, their backs to us and their wands pointed at the Slytherins too, next rose the Hufflepuffs, then the Ravenclaws in a unanimous show of support that doubtlessly choked Harry up. I couldn't relax yet though, I was still uneasy, Parkinson's exclamation, put together with my alarming reaction to the Dementors and the knowledge of Malfoy's new mission and I was like a tightly coiled spring ready to jinx any and all threats. Calm down, I tried to tell myself. Not until Parkinson is sorted out, I reasoned.

"Thank you, Miss Jones, you may all put your wands away for now," Professor McGonagall said, sounding an odd mixture of tense, annoyed and proud as she spoke, before going stern when she said, "and thank you, Miss Parkinson, for your contribution, you will leave the Hall first with Mr Filch. If the rest of your house could follow."

There was the sound of scraping benches as the Slytherins made their exit, not a word was spoken by anyone as they did this, but slowly the rest of us lowered our wands, and I stepped aside from Harry, who squeezed my shoulder in appreciation. Professor McGonagall instructed the Ravenclaws, the Hufflepuffs and finally the Gryffindors to follow the Slytherins out and as the students made their hasty way towards safety I looked across the emptying Hall at who was left. Needless to say no Slytherins had stayed behind, but there were some Ravenclaws, a considerable amount of Hufflepuffs and about half of Gryffindor remaining, which meant McGonagall and many of the adults had to sort through them seeing who was underage. Making my way forwards towards the remaining Hogwartians with Harry I admired the younger students' courage, but knew, deep down, that this fight was one they couldn't be a part of, the risks were just too great. The risk was too great for impassioned fools, I told myself sternly as we neared the table, what good will you do anyone if you're too volatile to control yourself? You'll just get yourself or someone else killed, cap your anger and use it with some bloody intelligence, yes he's even more of a traitorous little creep that you could ever have imagined, but it's just the Dementors making your feel so hurt, nothing else. Knowing all this was true I took several deep calming breaths, determined, for once in my life, not to let my emotions rule me.

"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked as we reached the Gryffindor table, where the Weasleys and the remaining fighters now sat or were congregated around. A quick glance at the still open doors revealed that no familiar ginger hair or bushy do emerging from the Entrance Hall and I felt my nerves increase further, I needed to know they were all right, fears, perhaps irrational ones but quite likely reasonable ones, about just how low Malfoy would sink to complete this mission unsettling me.

"Haven't you found -?" Mr Weasley started to ask, clearly alarmed, however, at that point Kingsley reached the table and began to address the fighters.

Quickly and authoritatively he told all the reaming students about the plan the Order of the Phoenix and the teachers had made, saying that Professors Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall were to take a group of students to the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Astronomy Towers, the tallest in the school, to fight from and immediately I saw an opening to tell them about my vision.

"They will send the Dementors to the towers," I said, not caring that I was butting in as this was potentially life and death, I had felt how strong those Dementors were in my vision, and I had seen how badly they had taken the fighters by surprise, Professor McGonagall had managed, but no one else had. Kingsley and a lot of the adults looked surprised by my intrusion, however, the ones who knew me better, like Mrs and Mrs Weasley and Professor McGonagall, didn't, "powerful ones, I saw them not five minutes ago," I said seriously, determined to get my point across and ignoring the way the students, who had of course learned of my Sight, looked at me, and how the adults seemed to listen with more interest, "so you need to be prepared, they took you by surprise in my vision," I told them all, looking at McGonagall meaningfully, "but if you're ready, they ought not to affect you so much."

"Right then," Kingsley, who was an agreeable sort of man, said, taking my words on board, "those who are strongest with the Patronus Charm, join a group heading for the towers. Meanwhile, Remus, Arthur and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need somebody to organise defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school-"

"-Sounds like a job for us," Fred suggested, pointing to George beside him and beaming mischievously but resolutely at the idea. Nodding Kingsley agreed and told the groups to separate up. Harry lent towards me.

"Come on," he said as we left them to it and headed towards the doors, "we need to find the others."

"Potter," Professor McGonagall's voice called from behind us, causing us both to stop and turn as she reached us, "aren't you supposed to be looking for something?" she asked purposefully, her eyes going wide with meaning.

"What? Oh, oh yeah!" Harry said, as though he had only just remembered it and Professor McGonagall quickly gestured for him to hurry, it was, after all, the very reason we were staging this siege, so that we could look for the Horcrux.

"Then go, Potter, go!" she insisted quickly, and pulling my pondering friend along I led him towards the Entrance Hall, feeling a good many eyes upon us.

"Right – yeah-" Harry muttered to McGonagall as we left, before turning anxiously to me and saying, "but what about Ron and Hermione?"

"I'll find them," I said as we reached the doors and hurried on, a sense of urgency filling me up now, the clock was ticking, we had until midnight before Voldemort and his Death Eaters descended on the school, was that long enough for us to find the Horcrux? And what about the inevitable battle that would follow, and the Death Eater possibly still roaming the corridors somewhere, who had a curse with my name on it? Again I felt sick but I pushed it aside, converting it to anger instead, this showed in my voice, "just you go find the Horcrux, when I've got the others we'll come and help you, but you need to start looking." I told him firmly, forgetting, in my haste, my desire to locate the Horcrux in my visions.

"Okay," Harry agreed, sounding a little reluctant but compliant all the same, "but be quick. I don't want you running about on your own, not if HE's around." And I felt my heart catch my chest and my legs stop, Harry didn't know about my vision, about what I knew Malfoy was up to, I didn't want to burden him with it and he was already reluctant to let me go anyway. His tone had stopped me though, made me afraid that he did know the fears rushing through my head, but I shook it off, of course he didn't, he was just worried that I'd bang into the ferret.

Rolling my eyes I managed a shaky laugh, "yeah, like I don't have the entire school to search as well, I've as much chance of being quick as you have. And honestly, you have no idea how much I'd like to run into the traitorous little slug."

"That's what worries me," Harry said, but his tone was teasing and there was a small smirk on his lips in spite of everything, returning his knowing smile with an innocent but undeniably wicked grin, I pushed him gently in the opposite direction.

"Go on!" I urged though he was laughing at me now, which given the strain we were under might well have been as false as my own, "get looking, I'll see you soon." I said, before turning away from him, completely serious now, and hurrying up the Grand Staircase while Harry called out to Nearly Headless Nick, who was hovering in the Entrance Hall. A question bubbled to my lips but I ignored it, I had no idea why Harry wanted to talk to Nick now, but it wasn't the time to question his actions, and keeping my faith in him I took off up the stairs two at a time until I reached the first landing.

"Ron!" I shouted, grabbing hold of the banister and propelling myself onto the first floor, calling out over the noise of evacuating students, "Hermione!"

Jogging down the corridor, the emerald ring thumping against my chest as I did, I looked franticly around me, peered into classrooms and checked all the little hidey holes. I couldn't imagine where on earth they had gone, the two of them had been telling me to listen to Harry's orders and stay in the Room of Requirement, but they hadn't been there when Harry and I had gotten back, I supposed that they could have been looking for me, but the others in the room had said they had to do something. But what, or more importantly where? No one had seen them anywhere, and I hadn't the faintest idea where they could have gone. Still, I wasn't deterred, I had only searched one floor so far, and completing my exploration of the first floor corridors I reached the staircase again and, panting slightly, took off up the next flight, using the banister to pull me up and dodging around the last of the stragglers heading up the stairs the seventh floor, mainly Gryffindors who had been discovered trying to pretend they were of age, they grumbled and shouted encouragements to me as I passed, spurred on by their support I raced all the faster, and was tearing down the second floor corridor in not time.

"Come on, Ron!" I called, my heart thumping nervously in my chest and passing Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, feeling a not so subtle tug at inside me, a snag on my intuition that was urging me to go inside, I suppressed it for now though, unable to see what possible reason they or I would have to go in there and turning my back on the door I fought back a shudder at old remembrances. No time for that now. "Hermione!" I yelled rushing on, peering in yet more classrooms and snickets, still anxious to get a hold of them both, to make sure that they were safe and that Malfoy hadn't got them, "where the bloody hell are you both?" I muttered to myself still searching, however, I soon reached the corridors dead end and started on my troubled way back.

There it went again, that niggling, as soon as I neared the boy's bathroom there was a tugging on my subconscious, urging me inside. I eyed it warily, old memories resurfacing, bad ones outshining the good, making me reluctant to go inside. I'm wasting time, I thought, still staring at the old wooden door, with its faded white plaque with black lettering and slightly pungent smell. A barrier of reluctance between me and it and my heart stuttering a little as it flew in my chest. I really didn't want to have to go in there.

Oh, why not? I thought, though it was more of an internal groan because I really, really didn't fancy going inside, but I had to check everywhere, I knew that. Reaching out I reluctantly broke through the barrier that protected my emotions from the memories flashing inside my mind, grasped the brass handle and pushed it open. With that I hurried inside, my fingers seeking the absurd comfort of the ring around my neck. Stepping into the room I slowed my pace, walking forwards, my shoes slapping on the tiled floor, I felt the crippling flash of a memory, of bursting through that very same door over a year ago, only to be met by the sight of blood and howls of pain, the blood and the screams didn't cause me to cringe, that was all down to the memory of who it had been, laying on the floor in agony. Stupid, I thought, tightening my grip on the ring so much that it hurt; I had been stupid enough to care about him even though I should have known he could never return the sentiment. And now here I am.

Scowling deeply as I reached the spot where Malfoy had collapsed what seemed like an age ago, I was overcome by the sudden desire to rip the necklace from around my neck and toss the ring into the U bend for Myrtle to find. Traitorous, murdering, cold, twisted piece of dragon dung, I cursed internally as tears of betrayal stung in my eyes and I hated him all the more for causing that. I was half way to doing just that, to lobbing the ring as far away from me as I could, when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, something that had been obscured by the cubicles and my preoccupation until then. It was the sinks, over by the wall on my right; one of them had sunk down, revealing a large, gaping hole.

The Chamber of Secrets, I thought, staring in numb shock at the sinks which revealed the chamber's entrance, someone had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Instantly assuming the worst I gripped the Hawthorn wand readily and started forwards, the ring slipping from my grip and landing back against my heart as I hurriedly jogged towards the hole, along the cubicles, ready to seal it off or face whatever was in there. The Basilisk was dead, I knew that, but was it possible that something, or someone, equally as sinister had made their way inside there. Who else would possibly want to go in there? I certainly hadn't all those years ago, and if Ginny hadn't been trapped down there and Lockhart being a plonker, I wouldn't have done. There was something eerie and unwelcoming about the place, that was more than just that it was a deep, dark hole in the ground, I don't know, maybe it was the Gryffindor in me, telling me it was a place I wasn't welcome, but there was certainly something unnerving about it. However, said Gryffindor prompted me onwards anyway, just like it had done that night in second year, someone might need my help.

Nearing the sinks and the seemingly endless drop I slowed my pace, partly because I didn't want to alert who or whatever was in there to my presence just yet, and partly because I felt suddenly woozy. Clutching the Hawthorn wand I crept forwards until I was standing next to the last cubicle, where I had to stop, bringing up my hand and massaging my temples against the dizzy feeling suddenly plaguing me, it was fast becoming too much, and I felt my brows furrow as my stomach lurched with nausea and the bathroom span around me. Not now, I growled the thought, battling to stay in the present, I don't need a vision now! However, as always my Inner Eye didn't listen to my pleas, and reaching out to grab the green painted wood of the cubicle next to me, I leant heavily against it until a sudden jolt, so surprising that it pulled a gasp from my lips, shot through me and I felt my eyes, which had been screwed up with illness before, go wide as another worldly breeze drifted across the front of my mind, wiping away everything I could see before me and plunging me into darkness.

Numb I hovered in disorientating blackness, robbed of all my senses. I could see nothing but the endless stretching darkness of the plane between the future and the present, not a sound reached my ears and there wasn't a scent in the air, here I didn't even have a ghost of a body, I was just floating consciousness, trapped inside my head before viewing whatever travesty was to come, and surly it would be some kind of travesty, it always was. Normally I hated the numbness, hated how dead inside it made me feel right before I was filled up with the alien emotions of the people in my visions, but today I welcomed it. The detachment of this state temporarily freed me from the ever present sting of betrayal, my fears for my friends, for our cause, and the torturous thoughts of what Malfoy had agreed to do. For that briefest of moments all of that was completely forgotten, and I revelled in the peace of it before a new scene began to unfold before my Inner Eye.

A sense of caution, like that of a child creeping through their house in the dead of night, every sense on high alert and fearful of the monsters hiding in the dark, reached me first, making me anxious but oddly determined as my Inner Eye opened on the dim scene unfurling. Wand still clutched tightly in my hand I made my way forwards, the last in a train of four, following Harry, Ron and Hermione, who's straight-backed forms made their way into the great cathedral sized room before me. Familiarity, strong and persistent, alighted inside of me as I looked around, wonder breaking through the clouds of worry at the sight of it. I didn't know why I was worried, the only hint I got for that was the continuous repetition of the words, this is it then, in my future self's mine to help me there, but I knew exactly why the room impressed me. It's tall, reaching ceilings were crisscrossed with ancient wooden beams, making the doming ceiling look like something out of gothic architecture. High on the wall opposite us, seeming tiny from this distance, was a beautiful, arched window which, during the day, would probably have been the only source of light in the room, however now all it showed was the stretching midnight blue of the sky outside. Light spilled into the shadowy room from the open door behind me, where there were lamps lit in the corridor, making a carpet of glowing yellow on the flagstone floor, reminding me, ironically, of the yellow brick road from the Wizard of Oz, as it led us into the room. Ahead of me Hermione lit her wand tip, illuminating more of this great and primordial room, the silvery glow landing on the many bookshelves, cabinets, tables and objects that made a maze of the space before us. It had occurred to me too, to light my wand, but I refused to. No, I would need my wand ready for something else, I knew that. And with that vague and worrisome thought, the others and I trekked further on.

A chilling creak echoed out behind me, a thrill of fear shooting through me I span around, my heart all but stopping in my chest as I turned my wand on the door just in time to see it shut, blocking out the light of the corridor beyond and hitting me with a dose of reality. Not yet, I told myself, it doesn't happen yet, I thought, shaking my head at my own jumpiness, even if I had a good reason, there were bigger things to think about now.

Calming myself I looked back at the others, they had all turned at the sound of the door shutting too. Laughing nervously, clearly as jumpy as I but for different reasons, Ron looked around the room, with its rows of old, dusty books, strange looming statues, half hidden in shadows, weird little things tapping in jars just to our left and countless other bizarre artefacts. "And he never realised that anyone else could get in?" He asked, as we came to a stop at a junction made of shelves with two different ways to go.

"He thought he was the only one," Harry said as we looked around.

"Figures," I scoffed, in spite of my discomfort, the monster's arrogance still bothered me.

"Yes, well, too bad for him I've had stuff to hide in my time; I think it's down here," Harry said, pointing right and well aware that time was short, we hurried along with him. I let the others go ahead of me, bringing up the rear with a watchful glance over my shoulder, and a twinge in my heart. Here he comes.

"Ivy!" the exclamation broke through everything, through the fogginess of my vision and brought me, spluttering, back to the present. Pulled abruptly from the future I stayed where I was, gasping for breath and completely disorientated. All I could think about was the vision, that mammoth room, filled with dusty secrets and the fear that was almost anticipation that had been twisting in my heart. Where was I?

I opened my eyes to see only vague swirls of white and splodges of colour ahead of me, blinking I tried to clear my vision as the rest of my senses stuttered back to life. The ground I lay on, was cold and heard beneath my robes, and my right arm was numb from where I had been resting on it, I wrinkled my nose at the discomfort of it and tried to roll onto my back, however, before I had the chance to I felt a pair of hands upon me, rolling me over and causing my head to spin again. I groaned.

"Ivy, bloody hell, wake up!" a frightened voice begged and for one heart stopping moment, from where I lay on my back, squinting up at a face that was gradually becoming clearer above me, I thought that I saw a familiar pointed face and sweep of silver blond hair. Emotion rushed through me and my breath caught in my throat, but the fogginess parted and I realised I couldn't have been more wrong. The face looking franticly down at me was pale, as the other one would have been, but rounded and dotted with freckles, that were appearing slowly now, suddenly popping up like stars in a night sky, the longer you looked up, the more there seemed to be. He didn't have freckles, his skin was sooth and clear and porcelain. And most tellingly, the hair atop his head was not blond at all, but rather a flaming red mess that he would have been mortified to have. I must be going mad, was my first real conscious thought.

"Ron?" I asked, my voice slightly croaky as the room slowly stopped spinning around me and it wasn't such a strain to see straight any more, relief flooded my friend's face just as I spotted a haze of brown hair to my left.

"Thank goodness," Hermione said gratefully, "we thought you might have been attacked."

"Only by my so called gift," I said, trying to push myself up on my elbows, even though my stomach lurched and the world span at the movement. And I had thought I was over this. Ha! I didn't care though, I had to see them both, to know that they were really okay and there was a fierce happiness building up inside of me that I couldn't ignore. Unable to resist I threw myself forwards, wrapping an arm around each of their necks and pulling me towards me in a hug. "Merlin!" I breathed in gratitude as Hermione let out a startled sound and Ron exclaimed in shock, "I thought he had you."

"What?" Ron asked, sounding mightily alarmed and realising that I had just dropped a bomb shell I released them both, cringing in anticipation of their questions.

"Who would have taken us?" Hermione asked her brown eyes wide in panic.

"It doesn't matter," I said, sitting up properly and scooting backwards on my bottom, looking behind me and pointedly away from them as I searched for my wand, I spotted it just beside the cubicle I had fallen next to and snatched it up gratefully. I was going to need that. "I was just worried is all, Harry and I couldn't find you and there's a war about to begin, for crying out loud."

"Do you hear that?" Ron asked Hermione in disbelief, "SHE'S lecturing US on running off without telling anyone."

"Okay, okay, I get your point," I said, well aware of their chastising expressions, "but I had my reasons, I'd had a vision and Harry needed me."

"You could have told us," Hermione said, obviously still not happy, "We might have helped too. But that doesn't matter now, I take it everything is fine?" she asked though Hermione sounded as though she were slightly fearful of the answer and I nodded to reassure her, "Good," she breathed, "what did you see just then?" she asked me and remembering that a sense of sombre determination came over me.

"Exactly what I said I would, though I didn't bring it about myself," I said, getting to my feet and ignoring how I was still a touch unsteady, as we needed to get out of here, and get to Harry. Ron and Hermione shared a look of confusion, before frowning and quickly getting to their feet, however I didn't hear them as they asked me what I had actually seen; I was too busy staring behind them, something on the floor grabbing my attention.

"What, in the name of Gryffindor, are they?" I asked, staring in shock at what appeared to be two piles of large, yellowing bones on the floor of the bathroom, they hadn't been there earlier.

"Basilisk bones," Hermione explained, following my gaze, though it was clear this wasn't what she wanted to talk about. "We went down into the Chamber of Secrets to get them, so that we could destroy the Horcrux."

"So it was you two down there," I said, looking from the bones on the floor to the hole in the sinks, that made sense.

"Yeah," Ron said, a sizable amount of pride in his voice as he threw back his robes and pulled something from the inside, a small, mangled gold object.

"The cup!" I exclaimed, a wide, joyous smile pulling at my lips as I took in the sight of the ruined Horcrux.

"Hermione stabbed it," he said, looking over at the bushy haired girl who flashed a shaky smile at the memory, losing none of the pride from his voice, "and now there's only three to go."

"We might want to grab those then," I said, starting towards the mounds on the floor and the others followed after me, "because I know where the next Horcrux is."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, "And you're just telling us now?"

"I only just figured out where it is," I told them. How stupid could I be? I chastised internally. My Inner Eye had been showing me this for ages, I'd had countless vision dreams about that one room as big as a cathedral for almost a year, and I had actually had a vision about the place at Malfoy Manner, when Voldemort had tortured me to almost the point of breaking, but even still, I had been too blind to see what it meant. Not now though, at long last.

"Where is it?" Hermione asked eagerly as the three of us bent down to scoop up the bones.

"The Room of Requirement," I told them and watched as it clicked with them too, of course it was, "I had a vision of being in there while I was trapped at the Malfoys, but I couldn't tell that it was the Room of Requirement because I'd never seen it look like that before. Even still, I ought to have figured it out, but, like the idiot I am, I didn't realise it until just now, when I saw us all go inside and from what we said and saw…Merlin I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out, but it's in there." I said, thrilled at my discovery but increasingly wary, as something else dawned on me, something else that linked that earlier vision with this new one.

"We need to hurry," I told the others as we straightened up, each of us supporting a sizeable amount of threatening looking Basilisk bones, "McGonagall's already evacuated the younger students and Voldemort attacks at midnight."

"We know," Hermione said looking suddenly tired and fretful, "we heard the announcement."

"Yeah, and if he's going to be here soon, then we need to get rid of as many of his life lines as we possibly can." Ron said, with a determined nod.

"Right, let's go find Harry then," I said, rushing with them back to the door, even as I felt the most overpowering urge to stay, a complete turnaround from the way I had felt entering the bathroom, all thanks to that one vision. No, I told myself firmly, I'm not a coward. I hadn't seen it coming, but the warning had been there ever since Malfoy Manner and that vision, it had just taken me until now to figure it out. The next Horcrux wasn't the only thing we were going to find in the Room of Requirement, and knowing that my edginess in that last vision was perfectly understandable. In fact, if you were inclined to think like that, this whole turn of events held wonderful symmetry, in the most twisted sense of the word. The Room of Requirement was where we were that day I had run after Mclaggen to punish him, it was outside there that Draco and I had shared our first kiss, and it had been through the Room of Requirement that he had let the Death Eaters in the night be betrayed me. So, in a macabre kind of way, it made perfect sense that it would be the place he'd try to kill me as well.

**Author Note: I am well aware that this isn't my best work, but as I said, I had a bit of difficulty with this and I really couldn't put off updating any more, not after I've had threatening messages, lol. Still, I hope you enjoyed this any way.**

**While were here, here's a question for you. I really like that Churchill quote, "In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies.", it has so much meaning for me with this fic. But, I'm interested to know what you think, what do you think is the truth that is protected by lies?**

**Anonymous reviews:**

**Ikari No Ojo: Thank you love, I am so glad that you liked the last chapter and its ending. :)**

**Ayame Yoshida: Hi love, thank you for your reviews for Seeing, yeah *blushes* I noticed the spelling error and have since changed it in more recent chapters, embarrassing, lol. And yeah, Trains and Sowing Machines is a great fic. Thanks again, it means a lot to me that you would reread chapters while waiting for more. Much love to you. x**


	31. Countdown

**Chapter thirty-one: Countdown**

**"Been given 24 hours**

**To tie up loose ends**

**To make amends**

**His eyes said it all**

**I started to fall**

**And the silence deafened" – Jem 24**

**Draco**

The world was a blur, a never ending swirl of darkness all around him with no clear point of light or hope in sight, but still the young blond boy staggered blindly up the pathway back to Hogwarts, his pale eyebrows furrowed as he stared downwards at nothing in particular and his cloak wrapping precariously around his legs, as though it too wanted to trip him up. Emotion, the thought stumbled through the fog of Draco's mind, was going to be the death of him. He couldn't feel a thing, not now, his mind and body refused to let him, refused to take any more punishment. It was a funny thing, that an emotion, something that seemed so simple in theory or when written down, could get so powerful as to do that to you. That it could threaten you so, that you could feel such love, such agony, and such fury, that the sentiments would boil up inside of you until your body simply couldn't take them anymore. To feel such powerful emotions that they turned into numbness with the sheer force of it all. That was how Draco felt, completely and utterly numb, as he wandered recklessly through the night, he had reached his limit, he was a potion that had over boiled, a man who had been tortured to insanity, he could feel nothing, do nothing, take no more while his subconscious tried franticly to repair him.

This wasn't the first time Draco had felt like this, to feel so strongly that his emotional centre had shut down; this numbness had been a frequent companion over the past year. When he had let the Death Eaters in last June, when Snape had made him flee for his life, when he had been trapped in the Manor, waiting desperately for news about Ivy, when he had returned to Hogwarts and after he had helped Ivy escape, had all been times when his emotions had simply been too much for him. Normally he welcomed it, was glad of the reprieve from his inner torment, it was nice not to think, not to feel and just to do what was necessary. This detachment was a treat, one his subconscious gave out sparingly and often withheld maliciously, normally he was left to suffer his own torturous feelings, to deal with his mistakes and losses alone. There had been no escape when Ivy had been trapped in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, for instance, there had been no peace then, exactly when he might have needed this numbness most his body had forced him to endure every second of fear, dread and hatred, to remember his love for her, even though he had felt as though he might just explode from the sheer force of it all. But now impassiveness was the last thing he needed to feel, his mind was in shock and he needed to relieve himself of that, otherwise the very worst would happen.

I need to think straight, Draco thought frowning deeply as he rubbed his temples to ward of a headache, I need to know exactly how I feel. So many times now he had said that he had chosen his side, declared his allegiance but he never really had. Yes he'd defied Voldemort plenty of times in order to save Ivy, and done his hated master's bidding often enough to make the rest of the world think he was one of them, but he had been selective, cowardly Ivy would say, he always made sure he was on the right side when the conflict ended. He acted in self-preservation, never with Ivy of course, he had done whatever it took to save her, but, the fact remained that when it all came down to it, when it looked as though Voldemort might finally kill him for his insubordination, he had made sure he was safely wearing his Death Eater colours. Draco always acted to keep himself safe, he had one foot in either camp and though he knew he only stayed with Voldemort because he didn't want to die following Potter into a fools war, he couldn't bring himself to leave the relative safety being a Death Eater provided, even if it had been a deadly place for him to be of late. But now there was this. Voldemort wanted Draco to kill Ivy, to kill her to prove his allegiance and save his own life, if he didn't do this then there would be no going back, if he defied the Dark Lord and let Ivy live then Voldemort would kill him, no questions asked, no second chances, he had had enough of them as far as Voldemort was concerned. There was no escape, there was no other option, as Dumbledore had stupidly insisted last year, there was only two choices here, just as there had been then, only now the stakes were infinitely higher. Kill Ivy, or let Voldemort kill him in her stead.

Teeth grit tight Draco stumbled on the soft ground as he raked a hand through his hair agitatedly, those were his options, he thought, feeling sick to his stomach. He didn't want to die, but that was exactly what would happen if he didn't do this, there was no way for Potter to defeat Voldemort, the Dark Lord was too strong, if he, Ivy and the rest of them didn't flee Hogwarts soon then Voldemort would obliterate them all, they didn't stand a chance of beating him. There would be no happy ending, no victory over this dictator, Voldemort would kill them and him too if he didn't do as the Dark Lord had commanded. So here it was, his defining moment, condemn himself to death or do the unthinkable. Hardly aware of it, so deep inside his inner conflict, Draco reached the castle gates to find them unguarded, the two Death Eaters who had seen him out having either run or been summoned, he didn't care to even consider which, he only took advantage of the abandoned entrance and let himself back into the grounds.

Lifting his head to look up as the heavy iron gates creaked shut behind him, Draco could see the castle, a great, black structure against the night sky, lights flickering in many a window, far too many for this time of night. They know, he thought absentmindedly, they know something is wrong. Dismissing the castle, cringing at the mere thought of heading up there, Draco made for the shadowy cover of the forest, walking its perimeter when any other time he would have stayed clear of the hazardous, dreaded place. He felt none of his usual terror as he trudged through the grassy outlines of the forest, keeping to the cover of the trees to hide his presence from the rest of the world, vaguely wondering if he could drop of the face of the Earth as easily. Perhaps, with any luck, one of the vile creatures that stalked the forest, which he had always feared, would snatch him and that would be the end of it, however, Draco doubted he would be so fortunate.

He was scowling deeply as light flooding out into the grounds some distance from him caught his attention, causing him to look around, the castle doors had been thrown open dozens of strange, stiff shapes, oddly glistening in the split light, came marching out of the castle and headed towards the gates. He had timed his entrance well, but evading the Order or whoever they were brought Draco no satisfaction, he viewed the scene dispassionately through cloudy eyes, before looking away and glaring at the emerald grass. He was shaking by that point; though the night was warm Draco trembled with a sudden force that broke cracks in his numbed heart, springing leaks of emotion. Now was the time to decide, to seal his fate forever, to choose which mattered more, love or hate, forgiveness or revenge. And shaking as he was with the tremors of rage, revenge looked incredibly appealing to him. Merlin help him, Draco pleaded, closing his eyes at the heavy weight of his decision, he was about to do a very selfish thing. He could only hope that whoever it was who mapped out his life, God or Fate, would forgive him, because they certainly wouldn't.

**Ivy**

The warm night air was heavy with the sound of crashing bangs and fierce cries as Ron, Hermione and I burst from the boy's bathroom and skidded onto the corridor, stunned. Coloured light lit Ron and Hermione's pale faces as we stood, flashing across their anxious expressions like the blinking beams of police car or ambulance, casting them as the traumatised victims of an accident already. I turned, the morbid need to know what was happening filling me up. Outside the second floor window the darkened grounds lit up with the multi-coloured flashes of spells and try as I might, I could make out nothing more than the silhouetted figures of fighters on the grassy land, there was no way to tell who was who or who was winning. The castle shook beneath our feet as thunderous bangs, almost like footsteps, sounded from outside, beating against the sound of my own heart, which was pounding in my chest with the force of a sickening fear that went beyond the battle I might not even live to see. Don't think about that, I told myself firmly, blinking away any rebellious tears as I stuck out my chin in determination, there were more important things than my own dramas now. Somehow, though I had no idea how, I managed to push down the fear that irrationally wanted me to obsess over the details of Malfoy's betrayal, and kept it down for now, though an emotion so strong and a hurt so deep couldn't be completely forgotten, and the tormenting sting and twisting dread continued to plague my subconscious, just beneath the surface.

Anxious to find Harry and destroy the Horcrux, to get this over with, I turned to lead the others back down the corridor, however we had to stop and move aside as a troupe of the suits of armour that McGonagall had enchanted marched towards us, clanking their way down the corridor carrying long and lethal looking swords.

"Merlin!" Ron, who hadn't seen them before, exclaimed as we let them pass us, following them with wide blue eyes.

"It's started," Hermione said, her serious voice quiet and frightened, looking at them both, feeling their fear and uncertainty as my own, but also reading the resolution in their expressions, I nodded and offered them a gentle look.

"Come on," I said untiringly, urging them to follow me as I started off down the corridor, heading towards the staircase and hoping that Harry hadn't gone too far, we needed to find him and find him fast, there was no time to waste. The war had already begun.

Together Hermione, Ron and I ran, the Basilisk fangs digging into our chests as we rushed forwards, desperate to find Harry and tell him the news. A dull rumble of noise flooded the corridor, growing ever louder as we raced on, rushing in my ears like the sound of waves in a storm, even though I was sure it ought to have been impossible for me to hear anything over the pounding of my own heart. It doesn't matter, I told myself, setting my jaw and keeping going, dodging around a gang of fighters as they sprinted to their own posts at the windows along the corridor, single-minded determination propelling me along. Nothing else mattered now, only that I find Harry and tell him where the next Horcrux was and we go and get it. It didn't matter who was waiting in the Room of Requirement for me, not right then. My nerves sought to disagree with me though, and had my legs trembling as I ran and my stomach feeling as though it was in a free fall. I'd deal with him when it came to it.

The noise became a roar of frantic sound as the three of us neared the end of the corridor, and behind me Hermione called out above the racket, "listen," she said, her voice suddenly eager and slowing our speed Ron and I did as she asked.

"…it never occurred to you to keep a few Slytherins hostage?" the grumbling voice of Aberforth Dumbledore asked in the near distance, "There are kids of Death Eaters you've just got to safety. Wouldn't it have been a bit smarter to keep 'em here?"

"It wouldn't stop Voldemort," a second voice said and the three of us shared a relieved look and quickly started forwards, it was Harry, "and your brother would never have done it." Harry said decidedly and Aberforth grunted in response to that, racing forwards, anxious to reach our friend Hermione, Ron and I rounded the last corner to see Harry pausing a moment, to watch as Aberforth headed down the stairs towards the remaining Hogwartians, organising themselves in the Entrance Hall.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, drawing his attention to us. Instantly Harry whipped round, his green eyes wide until they landed on us and our friend gave a visible sigh of relief.

"You found them!" Harry said to me before hurrying towards us and saying to the others, in a voice that clearly wasn't impressed, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Again, why is it we're the only ones who can't just run off without telling anyone?" Ron asked, his laugh shaky and his annoyance a frightened habit, looking over at Hermione before adding, "Chamber of Secrets mate."

"Chamber – what?" Harry asked, his shock as apparent as mine had been as he all but staggered to a stop in front of us.

"It was Ron's idea," Hermione told him, smiling strikingly over at Ron, even though she was short of breath from running and visibly shaking from nerves, "Wasn't it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after you left and Ivy ran off, and I said to Ron, even if we find another one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn't got rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The Basilisk!"

"What the –?" Harry started, mouth agape and clearly not following.

"Something to get rid of Horcruxes," Ron told him, and as Harry still failed to comprehend I added,

"Hence…" and lifted the bones in my arms a bit, looking in amazement at the large yellowed fangs Ron, Hermione and I carried, as though spotting them for the first time, Harry's eye's widened and it finally clicked.

"But how did you get in there?" he asked them, "You need to speak Parseltongue!" Good question, I thought, turning to look at my friends expectantly, I hadn't asked that, how had they gotten in?

"He did!" Hermione almost squeaked in her pride, reminding me of Ron earlier, when he had been talking about her destroying the cup, "Show them, Ron!" she urged and Ron did, cheeks slightly red but obviously pleased with himself Ron made a strange, hissing noise that wasn't quite right and sounded terrible; it had an effect like nails down a chalkboard on me, but sounded like Parseltongue.

"It's what you did to open the locket," Ron explained, looking kind of sheepish now, "I had to have a few goes to get it right," he shrugged slightly awkwardly.

"Well, clearly it worked." I said, proud of my friend as well, and pleased that we were making progress, even if I was anxious to get to the Room of Requirement and destroy the diadem, though there were parts of that I could definitely leave out.

"He was, amazing!" Hermione said sincerely, beaming at Ron, "Amazing!"

"So…" Harry said, frowning and smiling both as he tried to figure this out, "so…"

"So we're another Horcrux down," Ron said, pulling out Hufflepuff's mangled cup and showing Harry just like he had me. "Hermione stabbed it. Thought she should. She hasn't had the pleasure yet."

"Genius!" Harry yelled, giving in to his happiness and looking as though he wanted to reach out and start hugging people, but we weren't finished yet. "We just need to find the next one. I know exactly what it is, it's definitely the diadem, but I don't know where it is."

"Then it's a good job you have me," I said, grinning at my suddenly confused dark haired friend as he looked over at me questioningly, "I told you I'd find it and I did, granted I didn't bring up the vision myself, but this still counts as me finding it."

"You had a vision?" Harry asked, "Brilliant, what did you see? Where is it?"

"I saw us going to the Room of Requirement, looking for something, and I had a similar vision a few weeks back. So I think it's fairly safe to say that's where it is, where better to hide something you didn't want anyone to find, than in the place where people have been doing just that for centuries?" I explained, watching as Harry's face lit up with understanding and his own grin widened.

"Of course!" he said, elated, "Riddle would have been able to hide it when he came for his job interview, no one would have noticed if he snuck off to the room and hid it. Come on," Harry urged, starting back towards the staircase, "we need to get it."

There were no arguments there, and with the with clangs and thud and cries of the early stages of battle as a soundtrack to our frantic running, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I took off up the moving staircases, heading for the seventh floor as quickly as we could.

"I hope there's no one still inside," Hermione said, suddenly nervous as we raced up the final set of stairs.

"It doesn't matter if there is, they'll move for us." Ron insisted as we ran, shoes slapping on the flagstones, along the seventh floor corridor. Reaching the stretch of wall where the room was usually hidden we found that the door was still there, knowing there must still be some people inside we promptly hurried in.

The Room of Requirement, still adorned with its multi-coloured hammocks and banners and living stuff, looked oddly empty as we stepped inside, looking around it was clear there was no one in here save for three people standing by the portrait hole. One was Ginny, arms folded across her chest as she spoke adamantly with the others, her long red hair tied back ready for battle but no doubt complaining about how her family had told her to stay here, another was a woman dressed in the strangest assortment of clothes I'd ever seen, including a large bird topped hat and an oversized red handbag, it didn't take me long to remember Defence Against the Dark Arts third year and realise that this formidable looking woman must be Neville's grandmother. Finally, standing anxiously beside the other two, her entire body itching towards the door and her usually jovial expression pinched with worry, was Tonks.

"Tonks?" I called, a rush of happiness going through me in spite of everything, pulled a smile to my lips as I started towards my pink haired friend. Forgetting everything with how good it was to see her again I ran towards her, fangs and all.

She looked around and spotted us immediately, her expression lost some of its worry as she took in the sight of us all, and she grinned widely when she noticed me. "Ivy," she said as I reached her, throwing my free arm around her and hugging her tightly, laughing a little the older woman wrapped her arms around me and returned the hug, "hey, I've missed you too," she said, the smile evident in her voice, "it's good to see all of you lot, actually." She added, looking over at the others to beam at them as I let go of the woman who had been a close friend to me over the past few years, almost like an older sister, and who I hadn't seen in the longest time.

"Good." I told her jokingly before adding, "It's been weird not being able to write to you," still grinning I reached out and squeezed my friends arm as I said, "how are you anyway?"

"I'm good, a little tired," she admitted, though her expression didn't dim in the slightest, if anything she beamed with fondness, "little Teddy's been keeping me up at night, got a set of lungs on him your godson has."

I laughed at that, "I shouldn't be surprised," I said, thinking how with a werewolf for a father and a mother who could talk for England, Teddy being any other way would be impossible.

"Potter," Mrs Longbottom said, her tone authoritative and professional as she stepped towards us, reminding us, if any of us had needed it, that this wasn't the time for catch ups, "you can tell us what's going on."

"Is everyone okay?" Ginny and Tonks asked together, voicing the same fear as their expressions suddenly grave.

"'S far as we know," Harry told them, and though that was all we could tell them it didn't seem to satisfy any of them, "Are there still people in the Hogs' Head?" Harry asked, getting back to business while the excitement of seeing Tonks again slowly left me, and the sombre state of affairs weighed heavy on me again. Reluctance now, had taken the place of eagerness, as I thought about finding the diadem, but that didn't matter, we were going to do it anyway. I felt nauseous as the very idea, but didn't show any of my weakness, I just carried on, standing there looking solemn and listening attentative.

"I was the last to come through," Neville's grandmother said in the tone of an authoritative and seasoned war veteran, "I sealed it, I think it unwise to leave it open now Aberforth has left his pub. Have you seen my grandson?"

"He's fighting," Harry said and I felt a flurry of pride for Neville at the news, which Mrs Longbottom clearly echoed as she said,

"Naturally. Excuse me, I must go and assist him." She told us, before taking off like a shot to go and find her grandson.

"I thought you were supposed to be with Teddy at your mothers?" Harry asked Tonks who shifted a little, as though in physical pain.

"I couldn't stand not knowing-" she admitted, her expression giving away the true extent of her fear, "- couldn't let him do this alone – She'll look after him," she said, thinking of Teddy and swallowing the lump in her throat, my fragile heart went out to her, understanding her anguish though I really had no reason to, "- have you seen Remus?"

"He was planning to lead a group of fighters into the grounds-" Harry told her, but that was all Tonks needed to hear, any without another word she ran off.

"I don't like this," I said, hardly even aware I was voicing the words aloud, just reacting to the strong sense of foreboding and anxiety that had suddenly come over me, completely independent to all my other fears, I felt the most unnerving sense of panic. "Bad feeling." I added, my voice somewhat strained and my heart constricting in my chest, not sure why I should feel that way, but knowing that Tonks should have stayed at home. Don't be ridiculous, I told myself, mentally shaking my stressed out mind, Tonks is a strong woman, an Auror, if anyone could handle this, she could.

"Ginny," Harry said, his voice apologetic but oddly tight, as though this next order was straining him, he spoke to her next, "I'm sorry, but we need you to leave too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in." To say that Ginny looked thrilled would be an understatement.

"That's just a tad optimistic, don't you think?" I said, perhaps unhelpfully, but truthfully. Harry shot me a sharp look and I understood why, he was worried about Ginny and wanted to keep her safe, but honestly, he knew her as well as I did and there was no way she was going to stay out of this. She wasn't the type to sit back and let other fight.

"And then you can come back in!" Harry shouted after Ginny as, with a sly wink at me, the redheaded girl took off towards the exit as well. I smiled at her courage and Harry didn't look pleased. "You've got to come back in!" he repeated, though it was too late, Ginny was already out the door.

"Right-" I started to say, turning back to the others, feeling unexpectedly cold and unsteady but hiding it well as I went to tell them that we ought to head out then and change the room, however, Ron cut across me.

"Hang on a moment," he said suddenly with such urgency that the three of us instantly turned to look at him, "we've forgotten someone!"

"Who?" Hermione asked, while Harry and I frowned, unable to think of anyone.

"The house-elves, they'll be down in the kitchens, won't they?" he asked.

"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" Harry asked and thinking for the first time in weeks about Kidda, the kind elf who had helped me at Malfoy Manner and ultimately saved my life, I wasn't sure I liked the thought.

"I don't know," I said unsurely, wrinkling my nose a little at the idea, "I'm sure they'll want to help, but they could get hurt."

"No, that's not what I mean," Ron said, his tone thoughtful, "I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want any more Dobbys do we? We can't order them to die for us-" Ron was saying but he was cut off abruptly and with very little complaint when Hermione, throwing aside the fangs and broomstick she carried, flung herself at Ron and pulling him to her, kissed him passionately. Ron reacted instantly; wrapping his arm around her waist he lifted Hermione off the floor and deepened their embrace.

Quickly I turned away, my happiness for them both overpowered by the ferocity of the torment I felt at the sight of them, as I thought about the man I had been embracing this time last year and where we were now. It was too much given my unnerved state, and besides that, they were two of my best friends, and watching them make out made me feel uncomfortable, not matter how glad I was that they had finally got together.

"Is this the moment?" Harry asked, sounding faintly shocked and sharing a look with him I shrugged so as to not betray my own feelings. Ron and Hermione didn't listen to him though; if anything they held onto each other tighter, causing Harry to raise his voice. "OI!" he exclaimed, "There's a war going on here!"

With a clear and excruciating reluctance, Ron and Hermione broke apart, though they still held onto each other as they looked over at us, their expressions slightly dazed and their cheeks flushed as Ron said, "I know mate, so it's now or never, isn't it?" For some reason his words struck a chord with me, stunned me momentarily, made me think of my own situation. Now or never, the sentiment felt familiar. _"I couldn't leave without doing this,"_ the words echoed in my mind, sending shivers down my back and a thrill of excitement through my heart, quickly I blinked and shook off the feeling.

"Never mind that, what about the Horcrux?" Harry asked them both, "D'you think you could just – hold on until we've got the diadem?"

"Yeah – right – sorry," Ron said as he and Hermione quickly bent down to scoop up their fangs again and I looked over at the door.

"We'd better hurry," I said, keeping my voice as even as I could as I fought back the memories and premonitions jostling for the attention I refused to give them, and together we left the Room of Requirement.

What we saw beyond the door stunned us, in the short while we had been inside there the battle had intensified dramatically, great, booming thuds shook the castle violently, making me worry about how much longer it could hold up against such an assault, dust was already raining down from the rafters. Bracing myself as the floor gave another great shake I knocked my fringe out of my eyes to see a giant, hairy leg beyond the window. Grawp, I realised, eyes widening at the sight of Hagrid's half-brother as he stomped around in the grounds, laughing throatily as he tried to stamp on our screaming enemies. Standing up straight as Grawp thundered off , setting my body against the tremors his footsteps caused, I spotted Ginny and Tonks standing stealthily next to a nearby smashed out window, firing jinxes at the Death Eaters bellow. Heart pounding I looked over at Harry as he reached out and grabbed my arm, he widened his eyes meaningfully at me, clearly saying that we had to hurry, that we had to get inside the room again, however, at that moment a group of students charged past, led by a suddenly fervent Aberforth, who called to us that the Death Eaters looked like they had brought giants of their own as he raced past.

"Have you seen Remus?" Tonks asked, more than a hint of desperation in her voice and in an instant that sense of foreboding returned to me, growing and niggling away at me, making me shift uncomfortably, like it was a growth creeping under my skin. A bad feeling, I thought again.

"He was duelling Dolohov," Aberforth yelled back, "haven't seen him since!" I watched as my friend paled, all the colour draining from her face and her lips trembling, it didn't take long, not a second had passed but that was all the time she needed, for Tonks was already tearing off down the corridor, her expression a firm mask of determination and fear. The reaching tentacles of that awful dread wrapped around my stomach then, twisting it and causing me to lurch as the worst kind of premonition rocked me.

"Tonks," Ginny called, sounding alarmed as the older woman abruptly ran off and looking over her shoulder at our friend, "Tonks, I'm sure he's okay-"

"Tonks don't," I urged as she neared me, suddenly just as frightened as Ginny, more so actually, as I had this completely unfounded but deep rooted fear that something terrible would happen if she went. Tonks didn't listen to me though, it was almost as if she didn't hear me at all, she was so wrapped up in her own distress, in her fear for the man she loved, and I couldn't go after her, I could only watch as my friend rounded the corner and sped out of sight, the growing sense of menace rising like bile inside of me as she did.

"They'll be alright," Harry told us, but both Ginny and I couldn't help but carry on looking lost and afraid as we stared after Tonks, Harry's own uncertainty was obvious in his quiet, clipped tone, he didn't know that any better than we did and certainly less than I, this wasn't good, but I couldn't leave the others, not now.

"Ginny, we'll be back in a moment, just keep out of the way," Harry told her with increasing desperation and standing there, feeling numb and drained all of a sudden, a draining thought slipped past my inner defences, so this is it then, I thought solemnly, this is war, watching people you care about running off into danger and knowing that you can't help them. The way my feet seemed rooted to the spot sickened me, but I calmed my turmoil by repeating my earlier thought, that Tonks was strong, that both she and Lupin would be fine.

"Keep safe – come on!" Harry said, directing the last part at us and grabbing hold of me again so that together all four of us could walk to the bare wall, where he released us and walked quickly in front of it three times, his face a picture of concentration, now was not the time for mistakes.

I couldn't stop the trembling then. No matter how tough I tried to act, even I couldn't control the terror that shook my bones at the very thought of what I knew was to come, but I hid it well, clutching the Basilisk fangs tightly to my hip and clinging to the Hawthorn wand like a lifeline, I took a deep steadying breath. Harry's movements were quick; we all knew that time was of the essence, how at any moment Voldemort's army might take the castle, we had to get in there, find the Horcrux and destroy it as swiftly as possible. So as soon as the door appeared Harry reached forwards and grabbed the handle, I felt my stomach squirm and drop at the sight of it, and though I wanted nothing more than to turn away from it, to look away and avoid this fate, I couldn't let myself, with nothing more than a twitching muscle and a scowl to give away my averseness I stood there beside my friends as Harry turned the handle and threw open the door. Pathetic though it might seem, that action was a physical blow for me, I cringed but tried not to show it as Harry turned back around, his green eyes hard with resolution as he silently asked us if we were coming too. Head held high and my back so straight I must have looked ridiculously tense, I made no answer to his unspoken question, no one did, but as he started forwards into the Room of Requirement, Hermione and Ron following him instantly. I forced my feet to move as well, and with nothing more than a firm glance over my shoulder at the muted chaos starting behind me, the midst of the battle, I walked knowingly into this last confrontation.

**Author note: Honestly, this was going to be longer, I wanted to have the actual Room of Requirement scene in here too, but I was writing it and It was getting to the point where it was already quite long and I was like, do you know what, it'd be better in a chapter of its own. And I really think it will, because I really want to do that part justice.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter guys, I had fun writing it myself, it was interesting to consider how both Ivy and Draco were feeling about this turn of events, it was fun for some reason. Hope that showed. :)**

**Anonymous review replies:**

**Ikari No Ojo: Thank you hon, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, and yup, you pretty much hit the nail on the head there, that's what I meant with the quote. The truth that had to be protected by lies was there feelings for each other, both for different reasons, but the same emotion. Thanks again for the review, oh and the rereads too! :)**

**Ellie: Flattered! I'm so glad that in some small way my stories managed to capture your attention and hook you on them, as far as I am concerned there is no higher praise for a writer. And yes, that's always been my aim, I've read a few of those fics too where Draco is simply too nice when he finds a love interest, I know we change a bit when we fall in love, but its not a complete personality swap, so I am very glad that you thought I kept Draco in character through what I've put him through, though I must say, it's been a challenge. Thanks again!**


	32. Ablaze

**Author note: Good news, we passed the 250 reviews mark last chapter! This is amazing guys, thank you so much it is so much more than I could ever have hoped for when I started writing Seeing what seems like a lifetime ago. What would I do without you lot? You really are the best reviewers I could have wished for.**

**Chapter thirty-two: Ablaze**

**"If you cared, you'd walk away right now.**

**'Cause every bit of me wants you despite all the pain I withstand.**

**I didn't light this fire, but how it burns, burns, burns…" - Ablaze by Armchair Cynics**

**Ivy**

The vast stretching room around us was silent now; the noise of the war raging just beyond the door was completely shut out by the magic that flourished in here. The only sounds to disturb the sacred hush of this ancient and almost hallowed seeming space, was the sound of our heavy breathing as we made our way through the maze of objects, and the rhythmic click of our heels against the flagstones. I was very aware of my surroundings as I followed the others, the last and most cautious of our procession. It felt as though there was an electric current running along my skin, sensing things in the air that normally I wouldn't notice and alerting my frightened self to them. Every single nerve in my body hummed with consciousness, every sense was heightened with the keenness of a body well aware that these moments could be its last. My ears strained for the sound of footsteps following ours, to hear a swish of a cloak or the whispered, arrogant tones of that familiar voice. I was edgy, more so than I had ever been in my life and I didn't like it. Despite my link with the future, or maybe because of it, I was an instantaneous, spur of the moment kind of person, and this fearful anticipation was killing me.

Using every ounce of my self-control I turned to face the way we were headed, to keep my gaze forwards and not on who might be sneaking up behind me. I was supposed to be looking for the diadem, I told myself reproachfully, but in truth I was paying little attention to the dusty bookshelves that rose up imposingly on either side of me, and the old forbidden items that they housed. Dutifully I made myself scan them like the others were, but I took nothing in, I didn't see anything, unless it looked suspiciously like it had been knocked over or disturbed recently, in a way that might indicate that we weren't alone in here. Eyes wide and wary I looked around me as the others and I crept along, the Hawthorn wand gripped tightly in one hand and the other free and empty, feeling the air to the side of me in readiness, should anything happen, and I had long since stuffed the Basilisk fangs inside my robe pockets, so that I didn't have the hindrance of carrying them anymore. I continued on like this, tense and anxious, seeing but not, until we reached other junction of shelves and something caught my eye. Rising up ahead of us, tall, grand and impressive, was a wardrobe or cabinet of some kind, and as soon as I caught sight of it, it completely captured my attention. There was something about the towering black cabinet, with its swirling carvings and tooled silver handle, that struck something within me. Frowning with confusion as the four of us came to a stop before it, unsure of which way to go, I looked up at the cabinet while this strange feeling niggled away at me, it wasn't familiarity, I was fairly certain that I had never seen the thing before, but on some deep, otherworldly level, I felt a connection to it, and it wasn't a good connection. Disdain flooded through me, temporarily wiping away all my nervous anxiety and uneasiness, and turning my nose up at it I quickly looked away from the cabinet.

"Accio, diadem," Hermione tried hopefully, but none of us expected anything to happen and as predicted nothing did, however, Hermione was right about one thing, there wasn't the time to carry on like we were, if we wanted to stand any chance of completing our mission, then we had to find the Horcrux soon.

"Let's split up," Harry suggested determinedly, clearly not wanting us to get disheartened, "You two go that way and Ivy and I will go this." Harry said, pointing first to the left and then the right, "Look for a stone bust of an old man wearing a wig and a tiara. It's standing on a cupboard and its definitely near here somewhere…"

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement as Harry walked to stand beside me, and with a few more, brave, determined looks at each other we parted ways, Hermione and Ron hurrying off in one direction and Harry and I in the other. Our pace was brisk, while we had to search thoroughly there was no time to loiter and so we kept to a fast walk as we made our way down the next isle, passing yet more piles of junk and rows of shelves. Focusing upwards, on the tops of the shelves, I forced myself to look harder, clearer, to direct all of my attention onto the search even though I was constantly waiting for Malfoy to appear. It could be any moment, I thought ominously before scowling in disgust and physically shaking myself as Harry hurried off ahead, his firm gaze turned upwards. Forget about it, I told myself sternly, closing my eyes for a brief second and breathing deeply, using the age old anger management technique of counting to ten to try and calm myself, even though I knew there was no way in the magical world that ten was going to be high enough! I had to get a handle on this now, otherwise I'd be of no use to Harry, we'd split up now, there were only two pairs of eyes scanning this area, we couldn't afford for me to be distracted, if we missed the diadem, that was it, we wouldn't stand a chance. We need to find the Horcrux before anything else happens, I told myself firmly and obtaining a shaky, fragile control over what was fast becoming my paranoia, I opened my eyes, gulping deeply as I did.

Again my eyes strained in the dim room, the only obvious source of light Harry's wand tip, held aloft by that self-same boy walking a few paces in front of me. I still refused to light my own wand. Gripping the Hawthorn wand tightly and balling my other hand into a fist firmly by my side, not out stretched and sensing, I held myself with a strict purpose as I quickly stepped forwards towards Harry.

"Do you remember what the diadem looked like?" I asked him, startling my friend slightly as I had said hardly a word since we had walked inside here. Lenses flashing with the light of his wand, Harry turned to look at me as he answered.

"Kind of like a tiara," he told me, repeating his earlier words as he took another decisive step forwards, lifting his wand even higher to reveal a strange looking throne perched oddly atop a nearby wardrobe, the regal chair was the colour of gold, but tarnished with age, and was padded by scarlet, dust coated cushions. Harry frowned and turned to inspect something else, "but more like the thing the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw was wearing at Luna's house."

"Right," I said as together we hurried on, trying not to lose ourselves in the maze of artefacts as we searched.

"Somewhere near here…" Harry muttered, more to himself than to me after a short while of hunting, "somewhere…somewhere-" Harry's voice cut off suddenly, and just as abruptly my friend stopped still, staring upwards with wide, almost disbelieving eyes, and a slightly gaping jaw at something above us. Feeling a rush of excitement and hope I asked no questions, desperate for this to be it, for us to have found the Horcrux I immediately turned from Harry and looked up. Standing atop the wardrobe we now stood in front of, was a stone bust of a pox-marked wizard wearing a wig, but vastly more importantly, on top of that it wore a discoloured tiara.

"The diadem!" I said, the words coming out as a breath of relief. Thank Merlin! I thought, momentarily forgetting about the renewed price on my head and the man who was to be my executioner, all I could think and feel was my own gratitude and relief, I had been right, it was here. Harry wasted no time in stepping forward, but walking with an almost apprehensive slowness, as though to move too fast would end this mirage, he stepped forwards, free hand outstretched and reaching for the diadem. My waiting ears had already pricked, and my heart was already pounding, when the voice called out,

"Hold it, Potter."

I froze; in that instant my entire body went ramrod straight, my shoulders shot up towards my ears as though I were bracing myself and my hands curled into even tighter fists. That voice, Merlin I didn't even need to think about it, that voice was as familiar to me as my own, all shadows and ice, it was a voice I was sure that I would never forget, and the mere sound of it sent shivers up my spine. Slowly I lowered my head, numb to everything but the sound of his voice that still echoed through my mind, and ignoring Harry and all logic completely, I turned around, slowly, cautiously, but with a sudden desperation, it was as though a magnetic force was pulling me, aligning me, my north to his south. I HAD to see him.

When I did, no training, no planning could prepare me for my reaction, for the feel of it. He was a shock to my senses, an electric current sent rushing through my veins, and even as I finished turning I would feel my eyes go wide and my heart hitch in my chest. There he was, standing just inside the wand light, Draco Malfoy, the clear, straight lines of his face half obscured by shadows, his velvety, platinum hair a pleasant disarray atop his head, and his flashing blue eyes as hard as sapphires. He looked unearthly like that, standing as he was, emitting an almost ethereal glow and looking like an elven prince more than a young wizard.

In that moment everything was forgotten, there was no betrayal, no murder plot, no Death Eaters, just Draco, the sarcastic, temperamental, secretly pleasant boy I had fallen in love with. Even the pain the Dementors had unearthed couldn't reach me then, I was completely absorbed by the boy before me and lost in my deep and everlasting feelings for him. It was as if everything was as it always was, and in that instant I was actually glad to see him there, taking a tentative step towards us, and was about to close the distance between me and him myself when I noticed something. His eyes, clearer now as he stepped further into the wand light, they weren't the same, the gleaming glacial orbs were red and bloodshot, like he hadn't been getting enough sleep, and there was dark purple circles underneath them, to confirm that thought. I stopped then, paused hardly a hairsbreadth away from where I had started, and frowned. That wasn't all that had changed, his hair, which had looked merely ruffled before, was a mess, as though he had been raking his hands through it repeatedly, and the slightly hollowed planes of his suddenly shockingly pale face showed signs of abrupt weight loss, his clothes didn't seem to fit him properly either. Draco wasn't eating properly.

My frown deepened, and as I looked across the space at the mere echo of that enigma that once was Draco Malfoy, I tried desperately to figure out why he would let himself get like this, Draco was nothing if not proud and there was no way such a state of physical disrepair would be acceptable to him. It didn't make sense and it bothered me, setting off a sense of unease again, but why had I felt uneasy before? I asked myself, and then reality returned. Immediately my frown turned into a glare and the sickly blond walking towards me came up short at the sight of it, his tired blue eyes going wide as he kept his gaze firmly and almost sheepishly on me. Sheepish, I thought with disdain, ha! That'll be the day. So that was how he was going to play this game, was it? I asked myself rhetorically, he was going to play the poor, vulnerable victim and try and make me feel sorry for him so that he could regain my trust and kill me. Well, good luck, I thought viciously, I'd fallen for that trick too many times now and this idiot had finally gotten wise. I wouldn't make that same mistake yet again, and this treacherous little snake was in for a shock it he thought I would. Rage, not and fierce burned through my veins with increasing temperature as I watched him, setting fire to the butterflies that had fluttered there before. My chest rose and fell with my suddenly agitated breathing and my gaze widened, panning out from Malfoy, who had captured the whole of my attention, to see his two lackeys standing at either side of him, oozing even more mean dumbness than before. Almost raising my eyebrows, unsure whether to be impressed or infuriated by Malfoy's acknowledgement that he was going to need help - because I was certainly going to put up a fight - as I turned back to look at him, getting more and more wound up with every passing second. A year's worth of restrained emotion was bubbling to the surface, I'd only had the relief of a few bursts of fury this year, a few shouting matches, but now it was time to finally erupt, and I was more than ready for it.

Flashing a venomous, crooked smile I thought that I might actually welcome the release, and acting unthinkingly in my anger, which seemed to control me completely now, I flexed my fingers around the Hawthorn wand, Malfoy's wand, before I went to lift it, more than prepared to jinx him with it. This is long overdue, I thought, my gaze locked with Malfoy's increasingly panicked expression, I've been owed this retribution for too long. Completely still and hands spread wide, Malfoy clocked my movements but he wouldn't be quick enough to stop me and with one swift and precise movement I had the Hawthorn wand trained on him, and had opened my lips to speak when…

"Expelliarmus!" The spell echoed loudly in the silent room, carrying across the antique objects at an almost deafening volume. No! I thought in furious disbelief as the wand flew from my hand and my scowl slid back into place. Instinctively I turned to round on the person who had robbed me of my chance at revenge, but the spell hadn't come from the direction you might have thought, this wasn't Malfoy or Crabbe or Goyle's doing, and that knowledge stung fiercely.

"What are you doing?" I demanded furiously, flaming gaze locking on Harry, who stood a few steps behind me, my wand in his hand and his expression stern, but his eyes upon the trio behind me.

"Stopping you from doing something you'll regret," he answered firmly, though from the sharpness of his voice and the clipped tone of his words I could tell he wasn't particularly happy about this. I bristled, fuming at his audacity and considerably more infuriated than he was. Who was he to deny me this? Harry knew what I'd been through, what this worm had done to me, he ought to understand.

"It wouldn't be a regret; it's what I'm owed!" I snapped, my control on my voice slipping rapidly as I grew even more annoyed by the determined expression my friend wore, "Give me the wand back, Harry!"

"No," he said, his gaze flicking to me momentarily to emphasise his seriousness and his point, I grit my teeth, not appreciating being treat like a misbehaving child, it was MY stolen wand, I could curse whoever I liked! "I'll explain later," Harry told me, his glare returning to the Slytherins across the floor, "I should have told you a long time ago."

"Told me what?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Not now," he said, nodding towards the others as if to say that we had more important things to deal with. Reluctantly, and still completely livid, I turned away from Harry to look back at the scum near us and felt my expression harden even more at the sight of them, if that were even possible, and I knew that Harry was right. But more than that, my hatred for Malfoy was stronger than any annoyance at Harry, and the traitorous creep standing across from me once again regained my full attention. He looked uncomfortable.

"How come you three aren't with Voldemort?" Harry asked as I settled into a more ready stance, set to act should anything happen.

"We're gonna be rewarded," Crabbe said with eager pride, while the pale boy in the middle, the only one I could see, remained silent. Calculating. "We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to him." He continued boastfully, until his piggy eyes shifted to me and he laughed, "And we'll deal with you too, Mudblood."

"I wish you'd try," I said quickly, my voice a very real and dangerous threat as I glared at Malfoy's minion in fury, "Even without my wand, I'd wipe the floor with you." I hissed and Crabbe started for an instant, looking alarmed by my speech until his dumb pride returned to him and he sniggered at me.

"Good plan," Harry said sarcastically, ignoring my words.

Malfoy looked up then, so quickly and suddenly the only thing that really registered with me was a flash of glacial blue as the previously mute boy fixed his gaze on my friend and said, "You can mock us, Potter," Malfoy sneered, a fury of his own in his voice, "but you're no better at making plans. You led your friends into this, didn't you? This pointless battle. There's no way that you can win and all you've done is put the people you're supposed to care about in danger. If you had any kind of brains you'd have taken them away from here long before now." He said, a strange kind of intensity about him as he spoke, I felt my gaze narrow as a weird aching began anew in my heart and Draco's gaze flicked to me, that passion going nowhere.

"Harry?" Ron's voice sounded from around a nearby corner, as he and Hermione rushed towards us, doubtlessly reacting to our shouting and mercifully shocking me from my disconcerting staring match with Malfoy. Feeling almost disgusted I looked away and shivered.

"Desendo!" Crabbe suddenly exclaimed, his thick lip turned up into a smile as he aimed his wand at the pile of objects near where Ron's voice came from. As soon as the spell collided with it, the entire pile came tumbling down dangerously, a rumble a junk filling into the aisle and sealing it.

"Ron!" Harry shouted while I looked on in horror at the falling rubbish, terrified as I heard Hermione scream. "Finite!" Harry cried, pointing his wand at the barricade and stilling it.

"No!" Malfoy bellowed at Crabbe, causing me to spin around furiously, "everything in here is unstable, one miss-shot spell and you'll bury us all!"

"Who cares?" Crabbe asked, "we're safe here and if I kill Jones so what? It'll just be me that gets the glory for it and not you!"

Blue flames flickered in Malfoy's eyes at that comment, I could see it even from as far away as I was, that look of fierce hatred was unmistakable and breath-taking in its ferocity. But for however much my stupid heart fluttered at the sight of it, my expression only hardened, the power-hungry cretin, it was a shame Malfoy couldn't put that much emotion into something good.

"I care," Malfoy told Crabbe sternly, his voice quivering with the force of his words, "this is ridiculous, if Potter wants to kill himself that's his problem, let's go." Malfoy said, his voice a command that Crabbe didn't heed.

"But what about the Dark Lords orders?" the tall, thickset boy asked confusedly, "my father said…"

"You say that like in means something!" Malfoy said with an abrupt rage as he shot his friend wide eyed and meaningful looks that clearly told him to shut the bloody hell up. Watching that I curled my trembling fingers into even tighter fists, I wasn't an idiot, I knew what was happening here, "What does it matter what you're father says? I'M telling you that we're leaving."

"Why bother?" I asked, calling about across the space and causing the blond to jerk in shock, I was trying to control my voice but I failed completely, every single ounce of my rage, as volatile and unstable as the junk piled around us, was clear as day in my voice, "why not just get on with what you came to do?" I asked him, lifting my eyebrows in a challenge, "I know everything; I know what your master," I sneered the word, looking down my nose in disgust, "sent you to do and I don't care. The way I feel I'm more than up for a duel, assuming you're man enough to let me get my wand back before you try and kill me."

At my outburst Malfoy's entire face went slack with shock and I could have sworn he paled even more, proof of his guilt, I told myself firmly, while my former friend's wide blue eyes sought out mine and he opened his mouth to protest. "Ivy-" he started, my name from his lips feeling like the strike of a whip to my heart. Malfoy never got the chance to finish the words I more than likely wouldn't have even suffered to hear, as an increasingly frustrated looking Crabbe cut across him.

"Shut it, Mudblood!" he snapped at me, causing my jaw to snap shut in indignation and my furious gaze to shoot to him, "no one cares what you think. And I don't take your orders no more, Draco." Crabbe said, turning on his stunned friend and former leader, who had never so much as been questioned by his minions before now, "You an' your dad are finished."

"Harry? Ivy?" Ron called from behind the wreckage, "what's going on?"

Hearing this too Crabbe made mocking whimpering noises and pulled a pretend crying face that made him look even slacker than usual before mimicking, "what's going – NO Potter!" Crabbe suddenly exclaimed and reacting I quickly turned to see Harry trying to make a grab for the tiara, "Crucio!" Crabbe bellowed, aiming for Harry, but he spell went so wide that I was the one who had to jump out of the way and was showered by wood splinters when it collided with a shelf.

"STOP!" Malfoy roared as I lowered my now blooded arms from my face to see that Harry was standing once again firmly where Crabbe could see him and Malfoy looked horror struck between Crabbe and Goyle. "You'll kill them! The Dark Lord wants Potter alive! Don't you value your own life?"

"I'm not killing him, am I?" Crabbe exclaimed as though Malfoy were being ridiculous, "but if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what's the diff-?" Crabbe cut off abruptly, pulled roughly out of the way by Goyle as a jet of red light shot towards him, cast by Hermione, who had just rounded the corner on our other side, closely followed by Ron.

"It's the other Mudblood!" Crabbe exclaimed, throwing off Goyle's hold and turning his wand on Hermione, "Avada Kedavra!"

"Harry!" I cried, hating my uselessness as I watched, unable to help as the lethal green light flew towards Hermione, who only just managed to pull herself and Ron behind a clouded mirror in time. Furious beyond expression that Crabbe had actually tried to kill her I rounded on him again, my rage shifting momentarily, "You arse hole! What are you doing?"

Harry was undoubtedly thinking the same as me, gaze tight with rage he promptly threw out his arm and yelled, "Expelliarmus!" however once again Goyle protected Crabbe from the spell, though unwittingly this time, as the round boy was still standing beside Crabbe when Harry shot the spell, which hit him and sent his wand flying off behind him.

"Avada Kedavra!" Crabbe screamed in retaliation as Harry leapt aside to avoid the attack and Hermione raced forwards, knocking Goyle out with a stunning spell as she went.

"Stop it!" Malfoy yelled desperately over the ruckus, trying to regain some control as Ron charged in after Hermione, shooting a body-binding curse that only just missed Crabbe. "Stop it now!" he shouted, looking frantic and severally annoyed as tried to get us all to stop. Listening to him I felt my gaze zero in on him as he once again captivated me and desperate to seize this opportunity I quickly turned to face Harry, who was still blocking Crabbe's curses.

"Harry, my wand!" I shouted, shooting him a firm but pleading look as his gaze met mine and willing him to comply. They needed my help, we needed to throw them off so we had the time to grab the diadem and run, they couldn't do it without me. Harry looked reluctant, but as Crabbe's spell collided with a glass globe behind him and rained shards down upon him, he gave up and threw me my wand.

"It's somewhere here!" Harry called to the others as I caught the Hawthorn wand with an easy grace, more received than I could say to feel to weight of the instantly responsive stick in my hand and span ready to face my opponent, fixing on his blond head instantly. Draco froze his eyes wide and expression beseeching, but I had no mercy left to give. "It fell when the wardrobe came down, find it-!" Harry carried on yelling, but before he could finish and before I could fire my revenge at the boy who had betrayed me, Hermione screamed.

"HARRY!"

A fierce, animalistic roaring sound ripped through the room, and I froze. Malfoy, who had been watching me, his expression strained as though he felt conflicted or frightened, turned at exactly the same moment I did, and together we both saw what was coming. Ron and Crabbe, who I hadn't noticed had disappeared during the fight, I had been so busy focusing on Malfoy, were sprinting as fast as they could towards us, away from where they had been fighting with a wave of great, burning flames rushing along behind then, engulfing everything.

"Like it hot scum?" Crabbe bellowed as he ran, shooting one last hateful look at us all before he seemed to realise just what he had done and true horror tightened his features. Watching this, transfixed to the spot at the sight of it, the sweltering winds of the fire blew back my hair and the fire's scorching heat reaching me from even this distance I knew he had no control over what he had created, this great destructive force was beyond him.

Harry tried in vain to put out the fire with water, spray caught in the warm winds splashed back on my face but the rest evaporated on impact with the flames, it had absolutely no effect and all I could feel was a deep, petrifying fear as I slowly stepped backwards, unable to take my eyes of what was rushing towards me. Nothing would stop this fire, I could feel that in my bones, it was a solemn fact, and we had to get out of here.

"RUN!" I heard someone cry as Crabbe stripped past me, but all I could do was stare at the blaze, like a deer trapped in headlights, "RUN, IVY, RUN!" the desperate voice screamed at me but I felt only more and more disconnected by the second, as though I weren't really here, as though this was a vision and there was still time to change things.

Shock, a sudden jolting sensation rocketed through me as Harry grabbed hold of my arm, bringing me back to reality, and as I turned to look up at him my friend's gaze was distressed but focused, "come on," he urged, pulling me along so that together we could run with Ron and Hermione. Crabbe was ahead of us but I couldn't see Malfoy or Goyle anywhere. With Harry still guiding me I looked back over my shoulder but saw nothing but carnivorous orange flame, and felt my heart stutter terribly. "Ivy, come on," Harry urged again, pulling forcefully on my arm and bringing my head back around with the movement, the voice wasn't right, I thought somewhat disconnectedly as we ran, it wasn't him.

**Draco**

Smoke, thick and heavy caught in the back of Draco's throat as he fled, drawing racking coughs from his aching throat and stinging his streaming eyes. It encompassed him, the black smoke, surrounding him on all sides so he could scarcely see more than an arm's length in front of himself, disorientating him and cutting him off from everything else. This isolation distressed Draco, made him nervous and brought increasingly hysterical grunts to his sooty lips as he staggered on, dragging the unconscious Goyle franticly behind him. He hadn't let go of the blundering idiot who he called his friend, who by stupidly getting jinxed might very well have cost them both their lives. He didn't drop the hindering weight and race to save his own skin, he simply couldn't, he'd been through too much with the buffoon and despite what Ivy might think, he wasn't a monster.

But that didn't mean he didn't resent him hampering his escape. Giving Goyle another vigorous pull, scrapping his prone form along the stone floor until the other boy's head banged against Draco's legs and the blond, releasing Goyle with one hand only to wipe the sweat from his own brow, took several scurrying steps on before he pulled again. The room was sweltering, the smoke scorching, but Draco knew that far worse than that was hidden just beyond the dense grey curtain, charging after them like the beast it was. Draco had never seen anything like that before, fire so powerful and destructive, fire that took on the shape of the creatures that commanded it, just thinking of the rising scarlet flames and the beasts that swept from it, gliding through the air like they themselves where made of smoke, made Draco pick up his pace. He didn't know what Crabbe was thinking summoning up something like this, he hadn't even know Crabbe could do such a thing, both morally and magically, he simply hadn't thought his fellow Slytherin had it in him, but apparently he had, the idiot had snapped and now Draco couldn't even see him or anyone else any more. Draco's racing heart paused to give a constricting jerk at the thought, sending waves of fresh pain through him that had nothing to do with the sweltering heat or the strain lugging Goyle around was having on his back, and it all came flooding back to him, everything that had just happened, causing the blond to scowl deeply and grit his teeth as he hurried along.

In the smoke his eyes tricked him with the imagined darker outline of a capable, athletic figure racing around, circling him too fast to be possible and with a teasing, inhuman grace. In the roar of the flames he heard her impassioned, shouted words and in the fire its self he could see the spark that always blazed in her hard brown eyes. Draco might be completely focused on what he was doing, desperately trying to drag himself and Goyle to safety, and the deadly fire may have his full attention, but as ever he could not escape her. His mind, so fixed on his own task, was still reeling from the sensation of seeing her again and from her hatred for him. And by Slytherin did she hate him. Even before Crabbe had cast that accursed spell Ivy's entire body had been alight with her fervent rage, standing proud and stern beside Potter there was no mistaking how she felt about Draco, the disdain blazing in her eyes was too obvious to be mistaken. At first there had been hope, no, not hope, Draco reiterated with a frown, hope was too optimistic a word to describe their situation, at first there had seemed a chance that Ivy might have changed in her feelings towards him. When he had first seen her there had been no hatred in her eyes when she looked at him, no scowl on her lips and her stance had been open, friendly, her wide brown eyes had seemed almost happy to see him, but that had proved nothing more than a school boy fantasy when her expression had shut down and her eyes flamed with her disgust. Draco held felt such an acute disappointment in that instant that it was the only thing keeping him from saying he had imagined her first reaction.

Draco tried not to let that deter him, he was here for one reason and one reason alone, granted it would have been nice to have had her forgiveness but that wasn't the point of his following her in here. Making his decision in the shadows of the Hogwarts grounds Draco had set his boundaries, wrote the rules of what he was about to do, and letting his emotions get in the way had been something he had desired to avoid, but of course, that had all evaporated at the first renewed sight of her. She instantly invaded his every thought and feeling, so that even now, terrified and running for his life, all Draco could do was think of her. It went beyond reason, Draco was sure he didn't have a lick of sense left in him, if he had he would have stuck to his plan of cold detachment, it would have made this whole thing so much easier, but no, it turned out Draco was a glutton for punishment. I deserve every stab of agony this brings me, Draco thought, brows furrowing in masochistic determination, for being such an idiot about her. This anger, this frustration with his inability to stay neutral and formal around her, it wasn't just limited to himself, Draco knew he had plenty to feel guilty about, but he was by no means self-sacrificing enough to exempt Ivy from all blame. How she frustrated him! How adamant she was to hate him forever without giving a thought to why he did what he did, he knew he had had his more than his fair share of chances, but surely even she could admit that these circumstances weren't normal ones. The Slytherin Death Eater falling in love with the Gryffindor, Muggleborn, Seer friend of Harry Potter, with differences like that there was bound to be problems between them. But he had saved her life at the manor for crying out loud! Didn't that mean anything? Couldn't she forgive him his other crimes long enough just to heed his warning?

In spite of everything, the suffocating smoke, the furious heat bearing down upon him and his imminent demise, Draco laughed at that thought, low and sarcastic. Ivy had never listened to his warnings, not once in their entire relationship, not even when they were on good terms. She had ignored him when he told her to run away with him last December, when the Death Eaters had come to her house for her, she had ignored him when he told her to stay in the Astronomy classroom the night the Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts, in fact, the only times she ever listened to him was the letters he sent her this year to warn her of Voldemort's plans, and that was only because she didn't know it was him. He knew full well that Ivy wasn't going to leave now, no matter what he said, or rather, especially if he told her to. However futile their efforts might be against the Dark Lord, there was no denying this was the final fight, the big stand-off, and he knew as surely as his days were numbered that Ivy wasn't going anywhere until this was all over. He'd had to try though, he'd had to try and save her, which was why Draco had chosen to use Potter to his advantage, he knew the golden boy cared about her, loath that though he did, and Draco had tried to use Potter's protectiveness over his friends to get him to make Ivy stay safe, to send her away or force her to keep out of the fight. Draco didn't know how successful his efforts were going to be, but he had had to try.

A deafening squeal echoed from behind Draco, bringing him back to the present with a jarring thud as the sound of some object behind him collapsing under the attack of the flames reminded him of the precariousness of his own position. Reacting instantly, as the fire now sounded alarming close to him, Draco sped up, dragging Goyle along with quick, hysterical movements now, no pause, no waiting, and the other boy would be bruised up horrendously if they got out of this alive but that really didn't matter, the 'If' being all important in that sentence. This was ridiculous, Draco knew that, he didn't have a clue where he was going, he couldn't see a thing and the smoke cloud was wrapped around him so tightly he could hardly see him hand in front of his face. Draco knew, with a morbid certainty, that if something miraculous didn't happen soon, he and Goyle were as good as dead. In no way comforted by that thought and certainly not accepting it, Draco hurried franticly on, wading blindly through the smoke until his back collided with something solid. Distressed disbelief almost flooring him Draco had had enough, he wanted to give in, to sink to the floor and await the dark oblivion that would free him from his binds as a Death Eater and this link to a woman who would never love him back. There was no escape. Draco grit his teeth and scowled as warm liquid pooled in his eyes and a heavy sense of hopelessness seized his heart, this is it then, this is the end, Draco thought as he turned to see the final straw that had broken his resolve. And what he saw there caused his heart to sink and bile to rise up in his throat.

Draco moved quickly, scrambling over Goyle's unconscious body so that he was no longer touching the repulsive object he had collided with, a satisfactory distance from the loathsome thing Draco turned, his lip curled in disgust as he looked up at it. Standing before him, tall and impressive, was a sight that had haunted Draco's nightmares and filled his waking hours the whole of the last year, a sight that, if given his own way, Draco would never have to look at again. To most the simple cabinet, with its black wooden carvings and silver handle was of no consequence, but to Draco it symbolised an entire year of suffering and servitude, and he felt sick at the very sight of it. Another groan sounded behind Draco as another of the rooms ancient artefacts was lost to the fire, jolting Draco from glaring at Vanishing Cabinet and causing him to look around wildly, the fire was almost upon them, he realised, fumbling in his fear as he reached to take hold of Goyle again, they had to move, had to run, he was no longer complacent just to give in, he couldn't surrender yet. But maybe there was another way.

**Ivy**

"H…Harry," I started to say, my eyes stinging as the oppressive heat grew ever nearer. My heart shattered in my chest, my desperate plea was on the tip of my tongue but I never got the chance to say it, as still pulling me along Harry turned to look at me and his gleaming eyes widened behind his glasses as he looked in horror at something over my shoulder.

I followed his gaze. The fire wasn't just fire anymore; the enchanted flames had morphed into shapes, and the reaching fingers were stretching beside me were now the blazing figures of serpents, dragons and Chimaeras. The gasp that escaped my lips was inevitable. Swiftly one lone, flaming snake broke off from the fire and sped towards me, hissing and striking, forcing Harry and I to skid to a stop and triggering horrible connections in my mind. Stumbling backwards I looked around, spotting Hermione and Ron and seeing that they too were being herded by these fiery demons. My eyes were wide as Harry's grip on my arm tightened and he continued to pull me away from the blaze, the searing heat of the tornado of fire whipping my hair around my face and scorching my skin. We were trapped.

"What can we do?" Hermione screamed over the blazing roar of the fire, her hysteria rising and my own body trembling in fright, "What can we do?"

"Here!" Harry said, moving quickly as he dropped my arm, the loss of his steadying grip causing me to turn around and watch as he snatched up a pair of heavy-looking broomsticks from a nearby pile of objects. Harry threw one to Ron, who caught it before reaching out for Hermione.

"Come on," Harry urged as the fire surged closer, the creatures of the flames hissing and shrieking as they noticed us trying to make our escape. Needing no persuading I clambered onto the broom after Harry and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face against his robes I held on tight as with one hard kick Harry propelled us into the air, the flaming monsters snapping at our heels as we sored upwards, through the heavy wall of heat and through a layer of thick, black smoke.

As soon as we were above the choking fog I pulled away from Harry, coughing out the soot I had inhaled as I looked around, my eyes were watering and wiping at them only left a black smudge around them. That didn't matter though; through blurred vision and waves of hazy heat I franticly scanned the room, the raging fire below consuming everything, all that scandalous history, all those secrets, like the ravenous beast it was. The entire room was almost completely ablaze, and my whole body was shaking with the effort required not to scream in devastation, I frowned in determination and searched desperately with my eyes. I couldn't see him. No matter how hard I looked he wasn't anywhere to be seen, there was no shock of blond amongst the flaming orange, no ice blue amongst the fire and it made me want to cry out in agony. No, he had to be there somewhere, I just hadn't seen him yet that was all, the slippery serpent always found his way out of everything, he couldn't die like this. I hadn't finished with him! Eyes tearing and scowling deeply I grit my teeth and continued to search, adamant that I'd find him, not about to stop looking until I did, but Ron's voice above the roaring in my ears and my heart put an end to that.

"Harry, let's get out, let's get out!" Ron cried, from our left as the smoke continued to rise around us, encasing us in a suffocating cloud of darkness, though I already felt like I was falling. No! I'd find him.

I felt Harry move around my grip, though I wasn't paying much attention, I was sure that he must have nodded in agreement as in the next instant we were shooting off, away from the spot where I had last seen Draco and towards the door. "No!" I cried, my voice hysterical even to my own ears but beyond the point of caring, none of that mattered now, I couldn't leave him here! "Harry go back!" I yelled franticly, thumping my palm against his back urgently and turning away from the smouldering remains of the Room of Requirement to stare desperately at my friend.

Harry looked over his shoulder at me then, the fire light flickering across his face, the expression there asking, better than the words we didn't have time to say, if I was sure. Harry was no doubt thinking about how I had seen hell bent on murder earlier and all my many ranting's throughout this past year, but I couldn't spare a single thought for any of that.

"I – WE can't let them die!" I shouted, my determination unwavering, it didn't matter what Malfoy had done to me, I wasn't like them, if I cared about someone I couldn't see them hurt, and regardless of everything I cared about Draco.

"Ron!" Harry yelled to the redhead who had shot off ahead of us as Harry pulled to a lurching stop on the ancient broom and my heart rose in my chest, but only for the briefest moment as fear once again consumed me.

"Oh no!" Ron bellowed back, stopping and turning his broom to the side so he and Hermione could see us. "It's too dangerous!"

I didn't pay any attention to him though, I knew it was wrong to risk my friend's lives like this, but they were all good people, they couldn't just leave Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle here to die, so I easily suppressed any guilt I might have felt. Desperation intensified I quickly began searching the flaming room for any sign of the boy who had betrayed me but still commanded my whole heart. It was beyond stifling in the room now, the heat was fast becoming unbearable and the flames ripping through the room bellow made a mockery of the rage I would have compared to them. Holding onto Harry with one hand and gripping the bent broom twigs with the other I turned my whole body to the side as I searched with a strength of resolve I had never known before and a fear that almost crippled me, almost, too much was at stake for me to let that impede me, I wouldn't do any good in that kind of state.

"Harry!" I exclaimed, grasping at the hope blooming in the dense blackness of the dread that filled me as I spotted movement in the smoky distance, "there!" Harry saw them too, figures scrabbling atop a tall object in the distance, and without a moment's hesitation we shot off towards them, Ron and Hermione following closely behind us.

"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, IVY!" Ron yelled as we raced towards them, my entire body leaning forwards, pulled along by my heart beating franticly in my chest as though that might speed us along. One hand on Harry's shoulder my arm was outstretched long before we neared them.

They were standing atop the black wardrobe I had noticed earlier, something I only realised now because of the flames licking their way up the black wood, hungrily reaching out for the two boys on top of it. Draco spotted us coming, and supporting a still unconscious Goyle as best as he could he lifted his hand up for us, and with Hermione and Ron pulling Goyle onto their broom, Draco's damp, sooty hand found mine and with a warmth rushing through me that had nothing to do with Crabbe's spell I helped him onto the broom behind me. Immediately Malfoy wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close, I didn't fight the proximity, if anything I welcomed it, relief flooded through me in that instant, strong and heady even though we were far from safe yet. Though I would blame it on smoke inhalation later, it felt good to have his arms around me and the firm, soothing presence of his body behind me, and with a contented sigh I lent backwards, settling myself against his chest with the comfort of someone returning home.

"Let's go!" Hermione shouted from where she was keeping Goyle's weight on her broom with difficulty, and, awakening somewhat from my daze I blinked a few times but didn't move away from Draco. With Ron, Hermione and Goyle shooting off ahead Harry, Draco and I followed as fast as we could behind, making our desperate way towards the door until out of nowhere Harry suddenly dropped into a dive.

"WHAT THE-!" Draco started to exclaim, his chest rumbling against my back as he spoke, but he didn't finish the sentiment. Hot air rushed past us as we surged suddenly downwards, blowing back my hair while I left my stomach behind, several feet above us. I tightened my grip on Harry and leaned in as Draco did the same, forcing my eyes to stay open so that I could figure out what had caused Harry to act so rashly.

"DO YOU SEE IT?" Harry yelled to me over the roar of the fire as he sped up in our descent.

"WHAT?" I shouted back, narrowing my gaze so that I might see better through the fog, but widening them again in shock when Harry abruptly swerved to the side to avoid a flaming dragon about to fly at us, Draco's hands tightened around my waist and he held me fast on my broom.

"THE DIADEM!" He bellowed and fixed with a sudden determination, knowing how vital this was, I scanned the remaining piles of rubbish quickly, looking to where Harry was taking us and, with a jolt of surprise, I spotted it, lying atop of pile of fallen rubble, old dinted shields and books.

"I'll get it!" I told him in a steady even voice, dispersing my weight downwards onto the broom and reaching out with one hand to grab for it.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Draco shirked in my ear, disbelief apparent in his shrill voice but I paid no heed, we were almost to the diadem, and with one swift decisive movement I threw myself sideways, clinging onto the broom with my legs I reached down towards the lapping flames, undeterred, until I felt my fingers clasp the heated metal of the diadem and a wide, satisfied grin spread across my face.

"YES!" I exclaimed in elation, thrilled that we had gotten to the Horcrux in time, now we would dispose of it properly. Holding onto Harry tightly I went to pull myself and the diadem up, using both my grip on my friend and how I had locked my legs around the broom to push myself up, however, at that moment a blazing serpent shot past me, so close to my face that it left it flushed and I was afraid it might set the tips of my dangling hair on fire. The snake shot towards Harry, striking out at him and causing him to swerve the broom swiftly. I lost my grip on his shoulder then, and my fingers franticly grabbing at the fabric of his robes I slipped, unable to hold on.

Falling forwards, feet still wrapped around the broom I knew that wouldn't be enough to keep me on, that I was going to fall off and I screamed, as with one jerky movement the fiery pits bellow rose up toward me. However, that jerk was all the falling I did, as quick as a flash a pair of hands shot out and grabbed hold of my free arm, gripping it tightly and the very next moment I was being pulled back upright onto the broom. Once again securely in place, the hands that had saved me falling back into place around my waist I blinked, suddenly incredibly disorientated and confused. Everything was still red and black, I still couldn't breathe properly and I was still on the broom with Harry and Draco, trying to get out of here before we became trapped, but nothing seemed or felt the same any more. Turning my head I couldn't see Ron, Hermione and Goyle any more, they weren't anywhere in sight at all and I could only hope they had gotten out. I heard a guilty sounding Harry ask me if I was alright, and was vaguely aware of telling him I was, however, all that occupied my thoughts as I sat there, gripping the diadem tightly in my right hand, was turning around to look at the boy sat behind me. I couldn't though, try though I might Draco held me fast and there was no room to move anymore, he clung onto me like a man petrified and rested his head on my shoulder as I struggled to see his face. He'd saved me. Why on Earth had he done that?

Baffled by this I took a hand from Harry so that I could touch my head, which felt cold and clammy all of a sudden, I felt sick to be honest, and I wanted to get out of here before I suddenly vomited. Stomach rolling and eyesight blurry I spotted a rectangle of light in the distance and almost sighed in relief, thank Merlin, we were almost out, almost to the real world and out of this flaming hell where nothing made sense. The rush of cold air was more than welcome when we shot through the door into the seventh floor corridor, but it hit me like a ton of bricks, like I was an alcoholic walking out into the night after hours spent boozing in a club, it almost floored me. When Harry pulled the broom to a shuddering stop I broke out of Draco's arms, though I felt some resistance he didn't stop me, and walked on unsteady feet to the side while Draco fell from the broom and Harry collapsed on the floor in relief. The world around me wouldn't focus properly, nothing kept still, the tapestries rolled like waves, the candelabras swayed on their tables, even the stone floors seemed to be revolving.

"Dra-" I started to mutter, needing support and knowing what was about to happen, but I didn't get a chance to finish, not another syllable made it past my lips as a gust of mystical wind suddenly blew across my mind, blowing away everything, all the confusion, all the exhaustion and all the unease, and I let this vision claim me.

**Author note: and there we have it, the ROR chapter, sorry this took a little while longer to do, but I really wanted to do this part justice and hopefully I managed that.**

**I've got a few things I'd like to tell you guys about today, first of all, for some unknown reason I have made a Draco and Ivy MV. I honestly don't know what possessed me, I'm not a vidder and the video isn't very good, but I am proud of it and would love for your to check it out, the link is on my profile under Ivy and Draco – Its over tonight, or alternatively you could type that name into you tube and watch it. I'd love to know what you think.**

**This leads me nicely on to my next point. In cannon with the above mentioned random urge I've had another, and this one is to see how you guys see Ivy and my story. This interest was alighted when Foxtail-Padfoot (I really hope she wont mind me mentioning it) sent me a link to a site where there is a Hogwarts couple maker and she had made Ivy and Draco, (this is the link if you'd like to see it, tinypic (dot) com/r/1zclf2p/7) which I thought was a very good representation of her and pretty much exactly how I see her. I also have another fanfiction friend, who on Deviantart uploaded a picture of Ivy and her OC Abbey for our collab, which was very good too (again here is the link http: (double forward slash) browse (dot ) deviantart (dot) com (forward slash) ?qh=§ion=&q=ivy+and+abbey#/d3gwdlk.) Therefore, I got to wondering about how you lot see Ivy and decided I'd quite like to know. So, if you'd like, I'm going to hold…not a competition, I don't know what to call it, but I'm inviting you, my lovely, amazing readers and reviewers to show me what you think Ivy looks like, or how else you see her through any medium you want, be it a drawing uploaded onto Deviantart (or any other such site) of her or a scene you like or might imagine, to create an MV on you tube for her, or to do anything you like really. Naturally any and all participants will be rewarded with a snippet of future chapters, which I will ensure are worth the effort. So yeah, if anyone is interested please let me know.**

**Thanks again :) x**

**Anonymous review replies**

**Ellie: thank you sweetie, I was glad that you liked it and agreed with my decisions, thank you for the review! x**

**Ikari No Ojo: Aww thank you love, I'm glad you liked it! x**


	33. Extinguished

**Chapter thirty-three: Extinguished**

**Life is meaningless only if we allow it to be. Each of us has the power to give life meaning, to make our time and our bodies and our words into instruments of love and hope. - Tom Head**

**Life is relationships; the rest is just details. - Gary Smalley**

**Draco**

As soon as Potter was close enough to the ground Draco slid from the broom, collapsing in an exhausted but relieved heap on the flagstones as he breathed in the miraculously clean air like a man almost drowned. The impact of hitting the floor jolted his chest and stomach painfully, sending rolling waves of nausea and discomfort through him that caused the weakened blond to groan and grit his teeth. He ignored this though, there were more important things, and with that thought Draco lifted his head from the cool tiles and opened his eyes to look out into the corridor. A sick feeling still plagued him, turning his stomach and ailing him, but Draco would deal with that later, turning his head he desperately sought out the reason he was laying here, a sweaty, sooty mess on the ground and not a scorched body in the room behind him. Ivy Jones, the girl who had shaken up his whole life, who had brought all too fleeting moments of joy into the torture that had been last year, making it almost bearable for him, the girl who he cared about more than anyone else in this world, despite his upbringing, despite his own beliefs and his best efforts, the girl who he had betrayed so devastatingly last year that she now hated him with a burning passion. But she couldn't hate him, Draco thought as he used a trembling elbow to prop himself up, how could she possibly hate him after what she had risked for him in there? Draco was known for his cocky arrogance, for being blind to people's true thoughts of him and just standing there and inflating his own head, but these past few years had taught him self-doubt in the most brutal of ways, which was how he could say with complete certainty that his former self-assuredness had nothing to do with his assessment of what this meant. You simply didn't risk your life for someone you didn't care about, Draco definitely wouldn't and why should Ivy be any different? It might have been his brain suffering for the smoke inhalation, but Draco felt hope then, hope that in spite of everything Ivy couldn't give up on caring about him any easier than he could give up on her.

Racking coughs and retching provided a decidedly unromantic soundtrack for Draco's rose tinted moment, but Draco had never been a very romantic person himself, besides, with his love addled and hope starved brain, which had just received its first meal in a long time, fixed firmly on finding Ivy he hardly noticed. He spotted Potter first, slumped on the floor beside him, the fallen broom separating them and with his messy black head tilted backwards in relief. The other boy had his eyes closed and a small contented smile on his lips. Draco's own lips curled downwards at the sight, but he didn't pay his rival any more attention than that, Potter wasn't who he was looking for. Taking a deep gasping breath, still struggling to get in enough oxygen, Draco moved his gaze on to the space around Potter, searching for Ivy with his heart light in an exhausted body. He was confused when he didn't see her, she had been on the broom with them, surely she ought to have been sat next to Potter, grinning at whatever victory they seemed to have just had and thinking up ways to further put herself in danger. However she wasn't, and that had Draco frowning a little as he turned his head further to his left and spotted Goyle laying on the floor beside the other broom, flat out on his back Draco's friend looked unconscious and more than a little grimy, but the steady rising and falling of his large chest told Draco that he was all right. Beyond Goyle Weasley and Granger were huddled together, Weasley had his arms around Granger as she rested her head on his shoulder and he muttered anxiously and irritably about risking their lives for someone who didn't deserve it. Undoubtedly they were talking about Draco. Again the blond couldn't bring himself to care, the chance that Ivy might be on her way to forgiving him far outweighed any problem Weasley might have with him, and so he looked past them too.

When Draco spotted Ivy his heart gave a joyfully lurch and, pressing his lips together in a quivering smile, the sharp taste of soot assaulting his tongue, he pushed himself, with some strain, onto his hands and knees, about to start towards her until he saw something that made him pause. Something was wrong. Ivy was walking, or rather staggering, quite a distance away from the rest of them, swaying on unsteady feet as she made her way wherever she thought she was going, bringing her hand up to her head as she did. Confusion flooded into Draco, intensifying the sickening feeling rolling in his stomach tenfold, what was she doing? He asked himself as she continued on away from them, and what was wrong with her? Intuitive enough to know that she needed stopping, Draco quickly scrambled to his feet, unsteady himself on legs still recovering from his fight in the Room of Requirement, and his body still recovering from the shock of what almost happened to him, however, regaining his balance Draco started towards Ivy just as Potter turned his head to search for the friend he had only just noticed was missing. Determined to establish his place in this, refusing to let Potter be the one to help her, Draco fixed his blue gaze on the shaky brunette, just as she came to a stop and swayed uncertainly on her feet, her motions panicky Ivy once again lifted her trembling hand to her head, afraid now Draco picked up his speed and was close enough to hear her mutter something unintelligible, that still somehow managed to strike a chord within him, and to watch in horror as she suddenly dropped in a heap on the floor.

"Ivy!" Draco heard Granger scream as terror paralysed him and he stared in open mouthed disbelief and distress at Ivy, lying face down of the floor, her tangled mahogany locks veiling her face from his view.

It never ceased to amaze him how much her suffering affected him, how it stumped him so completely, but now that understanding took a backseat to his fear, what on Earth had just happened? Instantly Draco was reminded of the time Ivy spent as a prisoner in his home, of how she had passed out under the weight of Voldemort's curses, and the association did nothing to calm his mind. Desperate to help her Draco started forwards, but it was too late, in the time it had taken for his horrified brain to force his body back into action, he had lost his position. Potter was instantly by Ivy's side, closely followed by Weasley and Granger who were hastily muttering things that Draco couldn't catch that clearly indicated that they were used to this, and standing there, his heart ill with the sight of Ivy, passed out on the floor for no obvious reason, he knew it wasn't enough.

**Ivy**

Caught in a whirlpool of faces, shouts, bangs and flashes spinning all around me, I fought against the flow of the crowd that surrounded me, watching as looks of surprise registered on a few faces as they were pushed aside by an invisible force. Most however, didn't even notice, they were two wrapped up in their own fights. War raged around me, there were spells flying in all directions, bloodcurdling screams echoing in my ears and the pungent spell of sweat and magic clinging to everyone and everything. Normally all of this would have cut me to the quick, would have devastated my senses and wounded my heart, no matter how many times I experienced it, fighting and death would never sit well with me, but I hardly noticed it then. The end was almost here, I had done it all, done everything he had told me too, and now I could only race forwards and complete this one last task and hope that my mentor was right, either way, it would all end tonight. Death no longer scared me. Gripping the cloak tightly about me I used my shoulder to part the crowd, slipping through the gaps in the fighters and sustaining numerous blows and bruises from failing limbs and waving wand arms, but barging my way through this was unavoidable. My heart was beating quickly again, pounding in my chest and pumping adrenaline through my veins as I raced on, staring through the weaving throng of bodies and searching for one face. Pushing myself up onto my toes, I looked over the heads of the fighters, friends, fellow students and teachers, every face familiar and I felt a momentary twinge in my heart as I searched, the thought of what might happen to them if I didn't succeed hitting me hard but ultimately it only fuelled my resolve all the more, I had to protect them.

Another body flew out of nowhere then, a hooded Death Eater thrown back by a Hogwartian spell, he shot back through the crowds, knocking over several people on both sides and causing several to jump out of his way. I wasn't so lucky, I hadn't seen him coming, the beaten Death Eater collided with my arm, knocking me off course and wheeling me in another direction. Arm throbbing with pain I saw the Death Eater finally drop to the floor beside me, but holding onto the cloak, which hovered just centimetres from my nose, my focus was pulled instantly elsewhere at the first sight of my target. Revealed by the momentary parting of the crowd, like the bobbing waves of the sea, his green tinged skin pulled tight over scowling features, Voldemort coiled his arm back quickly before letting it flash forward, as quick and deadly as a viper strike as an explosion of emerald burst from his wand and flew towards its target. I couldn't see or hear the intended victim over the roar of noise, but I knew it hit them when I slow, sadistic smile twisted its serpentine way onto Voldemort's face.

I saw red in that instant, and as suddenly as he had appeared Voldemort was blocked from my view by this shifting of the crowd, shutting off all sight of the monster responsible for all this. That didn't matter though, I thought, clutching my stolen wand tightly, I knew where he was now and with that thought I rushed forwards, bearing my teeth in my anger and my glasses digging into my nose with the strength of my scowl. Forcing myself through the throngs with increasing desperation I saw flashes of my enemy, brief moments where the crowd afforded me glimpses of him and the atrocities he was committing in the time it was taking me to reach him, but that only spurred me on, it stoked the fire inside of me and set my mind completely on what I was about to do. If there had ever been any doubt in my mind about my destiny it evaporated then, this was it, the real ending, the inevitable fight, and I was ready.

I came back to the present with a rasping cough, franticly gasping for air I couldn't seem to force into my lungs while they worked desperately in opposition, trying to hack the smoke and soot from themselves. The effort shook my body brutally, and sent shooting pains through my chest while my back arched forwards and I curled in on myself, spluttering all the while I felt hands support me while the force of my coughing lifted my back from the ground. My head pounded, pausing only when a cough broke past my lips while I dealt with that pain instead, but it came back twice as strong when the retching subsided. I hurt a lot, but even after my vision I wasn't out of it enough not to know that it could have been far worse. The fire Crabbe had conjured in the Room of Requirement, it was brutal, a horrific and agonising way to die I was sure, and my entire being radiated relief at my lucky escape, despite my aching state. Finally I stopped spluttering long enough to lie down and breathe; relishing the feel of the cold floor on my burning skin I took deep, cleansing breaths while I waited for the usual dizziness to pass. The soothing hands were still on me, watching over me as I tried hard to regain myself, and safe in the knowledge they would keep me safe until I did, I let my wand slip from my fingers onto the floor and reached out for the comfort of the emerald ring. My fingers closed around the familiar object resting on my chest as it rose and fell rapidly, the platinum warmed by more than just my body heat, but still I cling onto it until I felt that I could open my eyes.

Mere moments had passed since I came back around, but that was all I needed to sort myself out, and blinking as even the low light assaulted my eyes I remembered more than just what had happened before my vision. I remembered where I was now, lying on the floor of the Seventh Floor Corridor. Shadowed and sooty faces hovered above me, giving the unwelcome sense of being a nuisance as I lay there awkwardly on the floor, but at the same time filling me with contentment at the sight of them. Hermione is knelt by my right hand side, her wild locks more bushy than ever and tangled into knots around her ash stained face, she was holding hands with Ron, whose characteristic red hair as peppered with black soot and his freckles completely hidden behind the layers of grime to fire gave his face. Both of them wore expressions of slight concern, but the overriding emotion was understanding, they had both been here so many times before and knew by now that my fainting was never anything serious, though I could tell from their straining lips that they anxiously wanted to know what I had seen. Turning my head to the left I found Harry, his messy black hair the epitome of windswept and mucky stains streaking his glasses, Harry's lips were already parted to ask the question on all of their minds, leaning forwards with his eagerness, however, staring at him I found myself scowling deeply as I looked at my friend, and overcome by a sudden rage as the events of my vision slammed into me full force I bet him to it.

"Idiot!" Was the first word I rasped as I grit my teeth in fury. Around me I could feel everyone recoil in shock, and profound surprise had Harry's emerald eyes shooting wide while looking at me in disbelief he seemed too stunned to speak, good, because I had something to say.

"Don't you dare, Harry Potter!" I exclaimed, propping myself up on my elbows and causing the three of them to stare on in bewilderment as I fixed my furious gaze on Harry, "I've always know you were a stupid git, but if you dare to do that," I threatened, lifting one arm to hit Harry firmly, punctuating each of my next words with a whack, "I. Will. Never. Forgive. You!"

"Ow," Harry complained, pulling back away from me and rubbing is arm as he frowned deeply in confusion, "Ivy, what on Earth are you talking about?"

Possessed by the need to keep my friend safe I was sure I looked like a mad woman as I quickly sat upright, the world swaying unsteadily around me, but I ignored all of that, this was more important. "I know what you're going to do!" I yelled, pointing my finger at him accusingly as Ron and Hermione shared a worried look that I caught out of the corner of my eye, however, they clearly weren't worried about the same thing as me, that look was one that suggested they were more worried about my sanity than anything else. "I saw you barrelling towards him like a hero on a suicide mission! And let me tell you right now that I'm not going to let you do it, you're not getting yourself killed Harry Potter, do you hear me? I'll stop you myself!" I yelled in my most menacing of voices, hoping to shock him into agreement, to jolt some sense into his thick, heroic skull. However, this was Harry, and he didn't react the way he should have, with all my terrified efforts and angry exclamations, Harry made a mockery of my fear, and laughed. Great, belly rolling chuckles burst from his lips as though I had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world, and needless to say I wasn't impressed.

Scowling fiercely I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him, "glad you find your death funny," I snarled before delivering a swift kick to his legs from where I sat pouting on the floor, "because that makes one of us."

Still laughing Harry shook his head at my words, "only you, Ivy." He chuckled mostly to himself before looking back over at me and grinning widely, in a way that made me think this might all be a reaction to the stress he was under and that my friend had finally cracked, he asked, "how can you possibly blame me for something I haven't done yet?"

"At least we know she's okay though, she didn't knock her head too badly when she fell." Ron muttered to Hermione, however, still determined to get Harry to see sense I chose to ignore the comment.

"Something that you're about to do," I said meaningfully and with an unwavering preciseness, "I saw that it was going to happen and I know what you're like, you'd kill yourself if you thought it would make Voldemort stop."

"You're probably right," Harry said with an appallingly callous shrug, though he was still smiling fondly as though I were a toddler talking nonsense at him, "but as of yet I haven't done anything."

"But you will!" I insisted, glaring at him in firm determination that seemed only to bounce off my friend's sudden recklessness. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"Harry," Hermione said in a pleading voice as she shuffled around me to look our friend in the eyes, clearly as alarmed by my revelation as me, "please do it." And with that Harry's indestructible expression faltered somewhat.

"Better do as they ask, mate," Ron suggested quietly, looking a little pale beneath the soot that coated his face, "you are pretty good as stupid acts of self-sacrifice."

Looking at us all Harry momentarily lost his cheerful expression to a more serious one, that seemed both touched and conflicted by our concern, however, his smile quickly reappearing Harry shook his head at us good naturedly and said, "If it makes you feel any better I promise not to do anything unnecessary."

I narrowed my gaze at him stubbornly, unmoving in my position, "that's not what we asked," I said in a tight, firm voice and Harry looked at me almost imploringly then, almost begging me to let this be and not force him to promise something that he didn't want to have to keep, I didn't give in though, I wasn't going to let him kill himself. "Promise us that you won't put yourself in danger; promise us that you'll stay safe." I said resolutely and Harry met my indomitable gaze for a brief moment, trying one last time to sway me, but I wasn't budging, I had the others right behind me on this and Harry soon gave in. Looking away and sighing he said,

"Fine," in a tone of voice that might have indicated that he was humouring me, however, all I heard was a dear friend agreeing to keep himself safe, so I didn't pay any attention to that and allowed myself a self-satisfied smile.

"Good," I said, smiling warmly at Harry who returned the gesture somewhat half-heartedly.

"Though to be fair, we shouldn't have to force you to do that." Ron intoned, clearly trying to lighten the mood, and sniggering a little I turned to see that both he and Hermione were smirking at that comment before I turned back beaming to Harry.

"With anyone but Harry," I said too warmly to make it an insult, I was proud of my friend for his love and dedication to helping others, I just wasn't about to let him sacrifice himself. Two, sharp, distinct coughs broke up our happy banter, the sound of someone clearing their throat irritably, and my face fell instantly.

Standing a little way behind Harry, unnoticed before by me now given my fear for my friend, and looking decidedly annoyed, was Draco Malfoy. I would like to say that I had forgotten about him until then, but that would imply that I ever managed to force the sneaky little ferret out of my head, which I could not. He was always there, sullying my thoughts; it was just that thoughts of him had been running on a different, less imminent, frequency until then. Head held high and scowl firmly in place Malfoy looked very thankless for someone whose life we had just saved, his glacial gaze was fixed only on the floor, until he glared disgustedly at Harry for a second before retuning his gaze to the tiles. Malfoy was a dishevelled mess and looked to be barely in control of himself from his shaking hands and furrowed, soot spotted brows, suddenly quite self-conscious as well as aggravated I quickly tucked the ring back behind my robes, frightened that he might see it.

"Where's Crabbe?" he asked in a very low, almost deadly voice the set my heart off racing in my chest and caused me to subtly thump myself there in an effort to stop that, as I continued to shoot Malfoy hostile looks.

"He's dead," Ron snapped, point blankly and I felt that fluttering heart suddenly stop dead as what Ron had said hit home and I watched, helpless, as those words crashed into Draco like a steam train. His blue eyes widened briefly before suddenly drooping almost shut as he staggered back a step and pressed his lips together tightly.

"Ron…" I started to chastise, the strangest sense of regret coming over me as I watched Malfoy's silent and absentminded retreat as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that his friend was never coming back. I knew how badly it would devastate me to be in the same position, and even though Draco had always seemed to resent Crabbe and Goyle's friendship I had always suspected he valued their companionship I lot more than he let on. It didn't matter that Crabbe had been the one to cause the fire, no one deserved to suffer that fate, and watching the distressed blond through sympathetic eyes I wished Ron had been kinder about it. However, I didn't get the chance to say anything more, I was I awakened from my saddened state when Hermione suddenly exclaimed,

"Ivy, what's that on your arm?"

Blinking, as though coming out of a daze I couldn't quite shift, my heart was heavy and my mind distracted as I looked down at my arm, viewing the appendage with a slight frown, as though it didn't even belong to me, and that look only intensified when I realised what hung from there. The diadem, a warm, hanging band around my lower arm, put there for safety after I snatched it from the falling rubble, was stained black from the fire, and looking closer I saw black liquid seeping out of silvery metal, dripping onto the floor. Pulling it off my arm I stared at it with the others until suddenly the headband gave a violent shudder, one that caused me to jerk and Hermione to gasp, while the boys only leant in closer to see as the diadem suddenly shattered in my hands, pieces falling into my lap.

"When I grabbed it in the Room…" I started to mumble, realising what must have happened but Hermione seized the pause of my disjointed thoughts to say,

"It must have been the Fiendfyre!" as she looked down at the crumbled pieces, all that remained of the object that had once housed a piece of Voldemort's blackened soul.

"Sorry?" Harry asked while Ron looked over in incomprehension.

"Fiendfyre – cursed fire – it's one of the few substances that can destroy Horcruxes," Hermione explained when her repetition of the name jogged no one's memory, actually, it did ring a bell with me, not necessarily the name but the fire its self, however, that triggered a deeply unsettling feeling so I quickly pushed it aside. "But I would never, ever have dared use it, it's so dangerous. How did Crabbe know how to-?"

"Must've learned it from the Carrows," Harry said in a dark voice as we all thought about the recently deceased boy and my gaze flicked over to Malfoy again, who was now slumped on the floor with Goyle looking miserable.

"Shame he wasn't concentrating when they mentioned how to stop it, really," Ron said, "if he hadn't tried to kill us all, I'd be quite sorry he was dead."

"Ron," I rebuked quietly and softly at this harsh words, even though I knew they were fair, "don't." I said, once again looking at Malfoy and feeling what was actually a twinge of pity for him, though I was too lost in this situation to think about that at any length.

Ron and Harry shared wide eyed and slightly alarmed looks with each other, clearly surprised by my uncharacteristic sympathy and concerned by what it meant, however, Hermione cut off any comments they might have made when she suddenly said, "But don't you realise?" in a excited whisper, "This means, if we can just get the snake that's it."

There was no denying the thrill of hope and joy those words sent through me, sent though us all, not even the current sad circumstances could suppress it. We were so close, we'd come all this way and we had finally reached the last hurdle before Voldemort, the one last thing we had to do before he could be killed, after everything, there was no way that could do anything but excite us.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked with a sudden urgency as he looked around the corridor, his triumphant expression vanishing completely as he realised she wasn't there; "She was here. She was supposed to be going back in the Room of Requirement." Sharing a knowing look with Hermione I rolled my eyes at my besotted friend as I pushed myself up onto my knees.

"You didn't honestly think that she would, did you?" I asked him and while Harry struggled to deal with this, to accept it, Ron looked across the corridor at the room and said,

"Blimey, d'you reckon it'll still work after the fire?" he asked, getting to his feet and dusting himself down, though the action really had no impact on the mess the fire had made of his robes.

"It might do," I said though I didn't hold out too much hope. Getting to his feet beside me Harry held out a hand to me and appreciating that, as my legs were still a little shaky; I accepted it gratefully, pulling myself to my feet beside him, "it's a powerfully magical room." I said, thinking of the strong, ancient and almost sacred feeling the room had as I tucked a strand of knotted hair behind my ears.

"Should we split up and look-?" Ron started to ask but Hermione soon cut across him.

"No," she said, checking her beaded bag was still with her, "let's stick together, I say we go-"

Hermione cut off abruptly, falling silent as the sound of shouts and grunts filled the corridor, coloured flashes reached us, illuminating our damp, grimy faces red and green and sending a thrill of fear through us all. Reacting instantly the four of us turned to look up the corridor, I felt my heart plummet as I watched Fred and Percy backing their way down the corridor, fending off Death Eaters as they went and duelling for all they were worth. None of us needed to say a word, the thought and the decision was as unanimous as it was instantaneous, we had to help them. Fierce expressions hardened my friends' faces as they drew their wands and moving quickly I bent down and scooped the discarded Hawthorn wand from the floor. Together, Harry, Ron Hermione and I started forwards, racing towards the two men who were family to each of us, but after just a few steps something pulled me up short, stopped me suddenly as though there was a rope around my waist preventing me from moving. No, not a rope, the pull of a magnet, the vaguely familiar thought drifted across my brain as, suddenly torn, I turned to look over my shoulder at the two boys slumped on the floor behind me.

Goyle was conscious now; Draco had obviously revived him and told him the news as the boy was now sitting with his back against the wall, knees drawn in close and his head in his meaty hands. The look on his face was painful in its intensity, Goyle's gaze was more focused than I had ever seen it as he glared at the floor in complete and utter loss, he couldn't seem to wrap his head around the knowledge that Crabbe, the boy he had spent so much time with for so long, who had always been there a firm and solid presence, was dead. I had never stopped to consider how much the two of them might have relied on each other, but I did then. Wrong though it may seem, despite my newfound compassion the distraught Goyle couldn't hold my attention for very long, not when I caught sight of the blond still sat beside him, who had his pale, shaking fingers threaded through his dirty blond hair and looked infinitely more resigned to what had happened, and all the more hopeless for it. Draco was already looking at me when I gave up the fight and turned to him, and the deep intensity of his gaze actually stunned me. His eyes, those striking blue glacial pools, were wide and innocent as they looked at me, filled to the brim with such sincere emotion that during my more unforgiving moments I would never have thought he was capable of. He looked vulnerable, I thought as butterflies fluttered in my stomach and the sudden and pathological need to comfort him seized control of me. Fortunately a loud bang erupted behind me before I could so much as take a step towards him, or do anything more than look tenderly sympathetic, and I caught myself. Looking away promptly I turned my back on him without another glance at his helpless expression, knowing myself well enough to know that if I did it would be my undoing, vulnerability from this proud, arctic man was my weakness, I couldn't bear to see him like that.

He deserves it, I told myself sternly as I gripped the Hawthorn wand tightly and ran off after the others, cruel though it may be to think that, Ron had been right, it was their own fault they were in this position, all of them, and maybe now they had experienced what true loss was like they would think twice before they joined murderous hate groups in the future. Ha, I thought, setting my lips in a grimace, maybe.

"Impedimenta!" I cried as soon as I was close enough, letting all of my anger and self-frustration flow into the spell which blasted over the heads of Harry, Ron and Hermione racing ahead of me and still sprinting forwards I watched as it collided with a masked Death Eater who had been duelling with Fred.

Quickly, as there was already another Death Eater stepping forwards to take the others place, Fred looked over his shoulder at us, the grin that had formed there automatically, widening to mischievous levels when he saw me. Spinning back Fred parried his new Death Eaters attack, even while countless more advanced behind them, and laughingly called,

"You all right there, misery guts?"

A black haired Death Eater shot a retaliation spell at me as I skidded to a stop beside the two elder Weasley's, and filled with single-minded determination I was able to block the attack, "Don't call me that," I yelled, but Fred only continued to smirk as he duelled his Death Eater and with a good-natured smile curling the corners of my lips I did the same, turning my wand on my opponent and shouting, "Immobulous!"

"Why not?" Fred called back as the sneering black haired Death Eater deflected my spell and shot back a lethal one of his own with terrifying speed, moving swiftly, my heart jumping in my chest in fright, I managed to block it with a slashing motion. "It's true. Deprimo!"

"No it isn't," I rasped as I shot stunner after stunner at the Death Eater, who blocked them with an arrogant ease until my last and most violent almost sent him tumbling, and his self-assured expression vanished. I might have learnt a lot this past year, but even still I allowed myself a good deal of satisfaction at that, people really ought not to underestimate me. "look," I said, as I took a step back as I blocked my attackers suddenly fervent attacks, obviously he hadn't like being almost beaten by me. "I'm having the time of my life here." I got out through gritted teeth as the Death Eater fought all the harder, and it became an increasing struggle to block his furious curses. However, I stuck it out, forehead damp with sweat I braced myself and started back forwards, recovering the ground I had lost as I sent his own spell shooting back at him, causing the astonished Death Eater to have to leap aside, too stunned to do anything else.

Fred laughed at my comment, spoken in a clearly strained voice, and made no effort to help me in my fight, he knew that I was more than capable of handling myself and I appreciated his confidence. "Of course," he said, firing a spell that span his opponent around by his ear (a fact made perfectly clear by the fact that the unfortunate Death Eater had his head turned up at an awkward angle) amusing Fred greatly before he sent the dizzy idiot careening backwards with another spell. "How could I have missed that?" he said, sending me a sardonic look before shooting a distracting stunning spell at Hermione's Death Eater to distract him long enough for her to shoot the spell that would floor him, "And here was me thinking you were still mooning over the same thing as last summer."

"Nope," I told him conversationally, still firing spell after spell at my Death Eater as Fred duelled another who had raced onto the corridor to help his struggling colleagues, "no mooning here," I told him before chancing a teasing look at my friend and adding, "besides Fred, you're here now, what more could I possibly want?"

"Your world is complete," he continued jokingly.

"Exactly," I agreed with a laugh as I struck out with my arm and cried, "Incarcerous!" which the Death Eater blocked with a triumphant smirk, shooting the flying binds into the wall beside us with a thump, however, I hadn't been looking for that spell to land, and before his sneer could even fully form I was already yelling, "Expelliarmus!" my fatally cocky opponent's wand shot out of his hands before he could react, and he was looking after it dumbly as it flew into my outstretched hands and it was my turn to smile. "Incarcerous!" I cried as robes erupted once more from my wand tip and flew through the air to warp themselves around my incredulous opponent like Devils Snare, that look of disbelief fixed firmly on his sharp features as he tumbled backwards.

"Nice," Fred commented as I straightened up, looking over at my beaten Death Eater as he duelled his own.

"Thanks," I said, somewhat proudly, as two things happens simultaneously. Firstly, Harry dispatched of his own opponent, sending the vile creature falling to the side where he landed in a heap behind the Death Eater Percy was duelling, and at that moment Percy hot a stunning spell that in order to deflect the Death Eater had to take a step backwards, stumbling over his fallen comrade as he did. Percy's spell didn't hit the Death Eater; not really, the movement of his almost tumble saved the Death Eater from the spell but sent his mask flying off, revealing a familiar face.

"Hello Minister," Percy yelled, duelling with a new enthusiasm as recognised the sault and peppered hair and large forehead of Thicknesse and shot a particularly violent curse at his boss, that caused the phony Minister to drop his wand instantly and claw at his chest desperately, as though in great agony. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"Was that a joke?" Fred asked me, grinning as together we duelled his Death Eater, giving the scumbag a run for his money as he fought to hold us off, "You're joking Perce!" he shouted over to his brother as he laughed proudly and together the two of us shot stunning spells at his opponent, who didn't stand a chance at deflecting them and fell to the ground unconscious.

Thicknesse couldn't stand his scratching any longer, and dropped to the floor to rub himself along the flagstones as strange spiky things, like sea urchins, sprouted from his clothes. Fred meanwhile, turned to his brother with the air of someone making a great discovery and I laughed as he said, "You actually ARE joking, Perce….I don't think I've ever heard you joke since you were-"

Everything exploded around us there, rock caving in around us as the corridor crumbled and the floor beneath us gave way, I screamed when as one we fell, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, Percy and I along with the Death Eaters, both conscious and unconscious. There was nothing we could do to stop ourselves, it all happened too quickly for any of us to even think about magic, and as I fell into darkness, terror swelling inside of me and filling up my throat, smothering any chance of further screaming, all that I could do was bring my arms up to protect my head as we fell, clutching the wand that was my lifeline.

The impact was brutal, a jarring, violent collision with a corridor already full of the debris that had fallen with us, reacting instinctively I immediately curled myself into a ball, so that the rest of the crumbling walls had a smaller target, ignoring the pain shooting through my arm as I scratched it against the rock as I moved to protect myself. The rumbling and crashing lasted for one agonising eternity, and buried under the rubble I was trembling when the noise and deadly shower finally stopped. Sitting up a torrent of dust and stones tumbled onto the stones around me, and pulling my foot from under a large piece of stone wall I looked around through the dust hazed air, searching for my friends. I couldn't see anything in the grey mist, I strained to look but it was impossible until it settled and until it did neither would my frightened heart, I wanted to shout but I couldn't, all that came out was a weak croaking noise until I coughed up some of dust and I called the weakly call out, "G…g…guys?" and another coughing fit overtook me before I could add, "a…are you okay?"

Hearing nothing I felt my eyes sting with tears and pebbles as I turned franticly, pushing myself desperately backwards on the rocks so that I could look further, looking for even a vague sign of life. The dust cloud began to settle, the rocks still sliding into place stilled, as this time when I turned my head I did see something. "Fred," I choked out, seeing a familiar redhead laying nearby and recognising him instantly. My heartbeat raced with hope then, and slipping on the unstable stones beneath my feet I forced myself to stand and stumbled across the debris towards my friend, I noticed that he had yet to move or reply to me but couldn't process what that meant at the time. "Fred?" I repeated as I reached him and dropped to my knees beside the boy I had been laughing with mere moments ago, he was laid on his side at a uncomfortable angle, his face turned away from me and buried against the rocks. Sure he must be hurting himself I reached out without hesitation, even as I lump started to form in my throat and my heart sped up all the more, almost anxious it its speed, as though it were telling me not to do it, as though it were warning me against this. But still I gripped hold of his shoulder and pulled, warm tears already spilling down my cheeks as I rolled him onto his side.

The gasp that escaped my lips was anguished, a chorus of coughs and frightened calls echoed around me but I didn't hear a single one, staring down at the face of a beloved friend, frozen on a smile, I was numb to everything else. Once again, I was falling.

He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man. - Antoine de Saint-Exupery

**Author note: Right, first I better start by acknowledging what I have done here, yes, I did just allow Fred to be killed off and I know that may not sit well with some of you, but I do have my reasons. For a while now, several of you have been asking me what I plan to do with Fred's death, and I've dithered about it, telling you no real answers and beating around the bush, however, I have been considering it. I feel that Fred's death is a vital part of the book, he is the first real loss of the battle for the main character's (aside from Crabbe but that isn't the same) his death really brings home what exactly they are doing, who they are up against and the reality that no one is safe. Therefore, this is a vital part of the story, and it also prompts an even more emotive response to the fighting from them all, which is important. Also, it makes the story more realistic, in a actual war the casualties aren't determined by who is well liked, it isn't just the virtually unknown and abstract character's that die, anyone can, and the killing of Fred is in line with this. Therefore I came to the conclusion that this is something I would have to do, but choose now to focus on showing the effect of this loss, which feels like its something important to me. So, hopefully you can appreciate my reasoning, and this hasn't bothered anyone too much.**

**Anyway, onto less controversial points. Some of you may recall last chapter where I issued a challenge of some sorts, where I asked you my lovely reviewers to show me your representation of Ivy or Ivy and Draco in any way you chose. JD1213 was the first to respond, with a brilliant collage of very relevant and fitting pictures of Draco and Ivy's relationship, which I simply love! If you would like to look at it too and acknowledge her efforts the link is on my profile.**

**While you are there you might also want to click on another link there. Recently I was contacted by another writer who had read my work and wanted help with her Draco/OC fic, which I gladly gave (though she hardly needed any really!). The link to her new fic, 'Simply Captivating' is also available on my profile under recommendations, so, if you are looking for a Draco/OC fic for when I have finished, with an interesting twist and wide array of character's, then this is definitely for you. To make this tedious but completely necessary author note all the longer I would once again like to thank all my wonderful reviewers, you cannot begin to understand how much your opinions mean to me!**

**Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh! Before I forget, I've seen a lot of the new Deathly Hallows part 2 posters about of late, and overcome with the urge to include Ivy in them I had a go at just that, some attempts were very rubbish, and none are as good as the originals, but some I really like. One of them is now my profile picture, and the two others I like you can access from a link there if you like. Let me know what you think :)**

**Anonymous review replies:**

**Ellie: Thanks for the comments, I'm glad that you liked it. Ah, yes I know I was told there was a few problems with the links, however, if you still want to see them skip back to the last chapter and they should work now, if not, let me know and I'll add them to my profile instead.**

**And my completely nameless anonymous reviewer (lol) : Gracias, estoy tan alegre que usted tuvo gusto de esto, él significo mucho a mí así que gracias! Espere que esto trabaje y que tenga sentido, Haha, I' m usando un traductor tan I' m un pedacito inseguro. :)**


	34. Get up

**Chapter thirty-four: Get up**

**We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender. - Winston Churchill**

**Ivy**

"No – no – no!" A voice screamed, pounding on the barriers of numbness that had built up around me, separating me from everything but the horrific sight before my eyes. A chill, like ice water, covered me from head to toe, creeping over my flesh all the way from my trembling finger tips to my pale white lips as denial and acceptance battled it out in the wake of what I was seeing. "No! Fred! No!" I looked up, tears spilling from my eyes with the motion as I watched Percy throw himself onto the rubble beside Fred through my clouded vision, his anguished cries ripping viciously at my heart and finally breaking through the numbness that encased me. A surge of devastation, as quick and brutal as a tsunami wave, rose up inside me, staggering my heart and suffocating me, I couldn't breathe, all I could do was watch as Percy shook his brother and shouted out in denial, refusing to believe the vicious truth, that Fred was dead.

Ron was beside his brothers in the next instant, looking as lost as I felt as he stared down at Fred's body, a frown in his brow, trying to make sense of a tragedy none of us could comprehend. Turning to look at my friend I saw the exact moment it all clicked for Ron, when he realised that this was real, I saw the complete and utter distress there and watched as something flickered to life in his eyes, something reckless and dangerous. Scowling Ron turned away, glaring at the ground as his entire body shook with the force of the rage building inside of him, a reaction to the injustice of this, and though there was no denying the same emotions were seeping through me too, I knew it was different for Ron. Fred had been like a brother to me, I had always said that the Weasley's were my second family and I meant it, especially after what they did for me last year, letting me stay with them when I had nowhere else to go, but despite how strongly I felt, I knew that the emotions were a thousand times more overwhelming for Ron.

"Get down!" I heard Harry shout and looking around at the sound of his voice I spotted him and Hermione standing a little way back, letting Ron and Percy grieve for their brother. They were ducking and diving now, trying to avoid the curses sent by the Death Eaters who had spotted us here and had leapt on our weakness.

Ron grabbed hold of Hermione and pulled her down to protect her and Harry dropped behind a rock, where we could see him but the Death Eaters couldn't reach him. I should have hid too, should have ducked out of the way, it was what the others were telling me to do, shouting at me as though from a long way off. However, overcome by a fury so strong that it made a mockery of anything else I had ever felt, I didn't get listen. How dare they, the vile creatures, couldn't they see what had happened, what we were going through? I asked myself disgusted and furious, though I knew of course that they were well aware of exactly what was happening and that they simply didn't care, they sought only to gain an advantage, and that reminded me of exactly what we were up against here. Livid I turned my wand on the Death Eaters racing towards us and fired without mercy, channelling every ounce of my devastated rage into each and every spell and hating that the satisfaction I got from beating them did nothing to relieve the emptiness gnawing away at my chest. I could hear Hermione telling me to get down, to leave them for now and hide, but I couldn't, I ignored her and carried on anyway. The sound of Percy's agonised cries were all reached me and my heart ached as I caught sight of him lying protectively over his brother's body, Harry told him to move, that we had to get out of here, but Percy refused.

"Cowards!" I bellowed as the Death Eaters I had been trading shots with suddenly turned tail and ran leaving the fight before I was finished with them, however, my rage was short lived, as I soon understood exactly why they had fled.

A scream tried to force its way out of my throat but I choked on it, unable to utter even a single sound as a large, hairy shape suddenly emerged before the hole our fall had smashed in the wall, which until then I had been firing spells through. Hermione shrieked, causing the boys to react while I stared open mouthed as a mammoth spider scuttled over the rubble and into the corridor, snapping its pincers menacingly and its coal black, hungry eyes fixed on us. "Stupefy!" I cried in fright, shooting the spell at the Acromantula at the exact same moment that Harry and Ron did, their shouts echoed my own and the horrid thing crumpled to the ground under our combined efforts, its giant legs twitching.

"It brought friends!" Harry yelled as I scrambled to my feet, my wide eyes scanning the grounds beyond the crumbling walls and seeing large dots of black scuttling around in the night, no longer in the Forbidden Forest where they ought to have been.

"What are they doing here?" Hermione asked, her voice tearful from where she stood beside Fred.

"I don't know, but let's move. NOW!" Harry urged and still completely dazed I staggered backwards over the fallen stones, my gaze finding Fred instantly and rage at his pointless loss swelling inside of me once again, threatening my sanity until I caught sight of Ron. He looked wild, careless as his scowling gaze flicked from his brother to the Death Eaters he could see beyond the walls. He was going to do something, I realised with a sudden wave of dread that rocked my already storm-worn being, he wanted to get them back.

Grabbing hold of Fred's feet Harry managed to rouse Percy from his anguish long enough for the intelligent redheaded boy to help him move our cruelly taken friend out of the way. Covering them, just in case there were any Death Eaters lurking about, I had my wand at the ready as Hermione led the two of them over the ash with Fred's body.

"Come on, Ron," I said with gentle insistence as I reached Ron, who hadn't moved an inch at Harry's words or the others' departure, he remained standing firmly where he was, in full view of any attackers with a furious expression in place. That look sent a rush of fear through me, I recognised it, it was a look I had warn so many times and I knew it all too well, an expression of pure reckless abandon, of complete self-disregard, and from personal experience and knowing Ron as well as I did, I didn't need a vision to tell me what it meant.

"Come on," I repeated in a stronger voice, my tone authoritative and my demeanour deathly serious as I grabbed hold of Ron's arm and began to pull him along with my free hand while constantly checking over my shoulder for any potential threat.

"Let go!" Ron growled as he fought against my hold to no avail, his attempts were futile, in his distressed state he might feel that he had the power to take on a whole army of Death Eaters but in reality he was fragile and distraught, not fit to fend off a child never mind a protective friend. I wasn't going to let go of him, not until he was calm again, I was no sooner going to just sit here and watch him to commit suicide than I was Harry. We had to talk him down.

Ron and I reached the others just as they finished hiding Fred's body, placing him safely out of sight in a niche where a suit of armour had once stood, I felt my heart rebound off my ribs as the sight of that hit me like a sucker punch, but fought to control myself. Ron needed me. Away from the rubble others instantly came into view. Down the corridor we could see other fighters, other battles, and as soon as they saw this, something further snapped in both Weasleys. Percy charged off immediately, bellowing at Rookwood and seeking out a fight, full of heartbreak and rage Ron fought to join him but I refused to let him. "Let go!" he repeated furiously, coming dangerously close to throwing off my grip as a new strength brought on by his loss seized him and suddenly I was struggling to keep hold of him.

"No!" I yelled back at him resolutely, clinging onto my vengeful friend with all my might and digging my heels into the floor to keep him from pulling me down the corridor with his efforts. "Damit. Ron, I know how you feel but-" he lunged forwards then, forcing me to cut off my speech with a yell and grit my teeth as I fought to restrain him, "…don't make me jinx you! Hermione!" I called, looking around wildly and spotting her helping Harry to hide Fred, oblivious to this. She looked around at the sound of my voice, "Hermione help me!"

Understanding immediately Hermione raced forwards and took hold of Ron's other arm, and together we managed to pull our hysterical friend back, though not without considerable effort. It broke my heart to do it, I understood Ron exactly, we could be so much alike he and I, and I knew that if I was in his position, if one of my siblings was dead, I would find and kill the person who did it. More than that, that was exactly the way I felt now, I wanted vengeance for Fred's death too, but I knew we couldn't have that, not yet. That was for Percy and the others, not for us, we had another job to be doing and we had to deal with all this later, unfair though it may be, that was how this was, Harry needed us, the Wizarding World was depending on us. Both of us managing to force Ron behind a tapestry Hermione called for Harry while I tried to calm a raging Ron, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

"Stop it, Ron," I pleaded, pressing my hands against his shoulders to hold him back, while Hermione anxiously held the tapestry back to let Harry in, "we can't do this now!" I told him vehemently but Ron didn't respond, his only reaction was to throw of my grip and bare his teeth at me while he tried to stalk around me and escape, however, like he was a caged animal and not my hot-headed friend, I spread my arms wide and refused to let him pass.

"Listen to me – LISTEN, RON!" Harry urged, stepping in front of me to deal with this.

"I wanna help – I wanna kill Death Eaters-" He snarled, hatred in his eyes for the men who had taken his brother from him.

"Ron, we're the only ones who can end it! Please – Ron – we need the snake, we've got the kill the snake!" Hermione sobbed insistently but Ron still didn't look compliant, so she schooled her features into a determined expression and hardened her voice as she said, "We will fight! We'll have to, to reach the snake! But let's not lose sight, now, of what we're supposed to be d-doing! We're the only ones who can end it!" she said powerfully, before lifting her tattered sleeve to her eyes and wiping furiously at her tears.

"Where will the snake be?" I asked, my voice blunt and serious as I addressed the others and Hermione turned to Harry.

"You need to find where Voldemort is," she told him, "because he'll have it with him, won't he? Do it, Harry – look inside him!"

There were no questions, no arguments, one moment Harry was closing his eyes to concentrate, and then next a battle cry echoed from down the corridor as the fighters drew ever closer, jumping at the sound I turned, wand at the ready, just in case. When I had reassured myself that we were safe and turned back around, Harry was completely still. Trancelike, how I imagined I must seem during a vision and how I had seen him many times before when Voldemort took over his mind.

Taking deep breaths to steady myself I held my head high and kept my expression determined as Ron, Hermione and I stood waiting, though not one of us were content just to do that. We couldn't stand being still, couldn't stand not to be doing something when all those horrible things were happening just beyond the tapestry that fluttered in the breeze beside us. Ron began pacing, frustratedly walking back and forth along the far wall and running his hands through his soot-stained hair. Hermione, like me, stood still with her expression stern, though her anxiety was made plain by the way she wrung her hands together nervously and frowned deeply as whatever Harry was seeing made him scowl. Convinced that I had to keep us safe, that it was my job to look out for them all, I took swift and silent steps towards the tapestry that shielded us and pulled it aside just the smallest amount, so that I could look out and inspect the corridor beyond. The sound of duels rang out deafeningly in the air, every scream, bang and noise making me want to flinch at the pain being inflicted but I restrained, I simply gritted my teeth against my sudden apathy and scanned the empty corridor thoroughly. For now we were safe, I thought as I peeked out from behind the purple fabric, the fighters hadn't quite reached here yet and they were only duelling from one side of the corridor, we had an escape. Or so I had thought. Footsteps, frantic and irregular, like whoever they belonged to was stumbling, raced towards us, and alarmed and protective I pulled back and drew my wand up to my chest, letting the tapestry flutter back closed but ready to fight should I have to.

Hermione, hearing the sound too, threw Ron a motion for him to be quiet, which the grieving boy miraculously heeded. Slowing to a stop Ron brought up his own wand as I turned my head towards the tapestry to look through the little gap that appeared there naturally, where the tapestry didn't quite fit the whole. I couldn't see much, just colours, but that might be enough to give us warning, and the space was plenty for me just to poke my wand through and jinx if it came to that. The footsteps neared, getting louder and if possible even more erratic, as though the person was running for their lives, and at the speed the person was going I half expected them to shoot right past us and carry on racing to wherever they were going. They didn't. The footsteps slowed abruptly, soles slapping on the floor as they skidded to a stop, the person who had been running came to rest right in front of the tapestry. A black shadow appeared beyond the fabric and my breath caught in my throat, fingers flexing around the Hawthorn wand I prepared to fight, sure that this person must know that we were here, but something stopped me. A scent, so stunning and unexpected that it held me completely still as it reached my nose, it was sharp and clean, and as soon as I smelt it something started to melt inside of me and against my will I leant in closer to the tapestry to smell it again. I inhaled deeply while the person behind the tapestry collected their breath, gasping desperately for air and seeming to struggle to breathe, and this time when I caught the delicious scent there was something else to it, it was smoke, I could smell smoke.

Smoke? I thought, pulling back, shaken from my trance by the question, why was that important? Behind me I could sense Hermione and Ron looking at me, could feel the weight of their confused gazes on my back, clearly wondering why I hadn't acted yet, so was I, this person might be a threat, I should deal with them now and not give them the chance to attack us first, but for whatever reason, I let them be. Watching the slice of black through the gap in the tapestry I did nothing as the person there seemed to sway and move about, as though indecisive, before finally letting out a snarl of frustration, which tugged uncomfortably on my heartstrings, and racing off back the way they had come. Resting my back against the wall I felt suddenly weak and unsure, lost almost, and turning back to face the others, unwilling the answer the questions surly waiting on their lips, I was more than thrilled to see Harry's eyes fly abruptly open.

"He's in the Shrieking Shack." Harry gasped as soon as he surfaced, and Ron and Hermione immediately turned to face him, "The snake is with him, it's got some sort of magical protection around it. He's just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape." I would be lying if I told you that that name didn't rock me slightly, that it didn't remind me of the days spent in that slimy serpent's dungeon and send a shiver of both fear and revulsion through me. However, I wasn't lying when I said that I refused to let it bother me.

"We'll have to find a way to get through his protections." I said, thinking that Voldemort had just made this impossible task a thousand times more difficult.

"We'll think of something," Hermione said before turning back to Harry and exclaiming in disbelief, "Voldemort's sitting in the Shrieking Shack? He's not even fighting?"

"He doesn't think he needs to fight, he thinks I'm going to go to him." Harry explained, looking at me then while I narrowed my gaze at him threateningly, daring him to go back on his promise to us and put his life in danger.

"He obviously knows your perchance for suicide missions." Ron said drolly and Harry rolled his eyes at him before saying,

"No, he knows I'm after Horcruxes – he's keeping Nagimi close beside him – obviously I'm going to have to go to him to get near the thing-"

"Right," Ron summarised, "so you can't go, that's what he wants, what he's expecting. You stay here and look after the girls, and I'll go and get-"

"-Yourself killed!" I finished for him angrily, stepping towards them all my hands on my hips and my expression unwavering, "No, Ron, you're too emotional, too distressed, you'll charge in there and you won't stand a chance." Scowling Ron opened his mouth to protest but I didn't give him the chance, I turned to the others and said, "I'll go, I can control myself." They all looked doubtful at that, disbelieving, and it frustrated me more than I could say that they had such little faith in me. I wasn't some temperamental child about to throw a tantrum, I could do this, I could master myself, Merlin, I'd been doing it for the past year!

"No, all of you are staying here, I'll go under the Cloak and I'll be back as soon as I-" Harry said dismissing my comments easily and sounding as though his was the most rational choice, though it was just as ridiculous as Ron's.

"You know, it makes much more sense if I take the Cloak and-" Hermione started as though she were actually speaking rationally but Ron didn't give her the chance to finish.

"Don't even think about it," he growled protectively.

"We all go," I said with as much authority as I could muster, and the Founders knew I had never had much of that with this lot, "that's as fair as this gets." I told them all but no one seemed to agree very much. They just ignored me.

"Ron, I am just as capable-" Hermione started to say while the boys ranted against the claims, however, all of them were cut off immediately when the tapestry was torn aside with a petrifying roar of the word,

"POTTER!"

Two Death Eaters stood there, their faces hidden by their grotesque masks and their wands drawn. Feeling my stomach plummet, I was supposed to be keeping an eye out for my friends, Hermione and I reacted in cannon. "Impedimenta!" I cried, turning my wand on the two of them and knocking them back as Hermione pointed her wand and the floor and screamed,

"Glisseo!"

The staircase I hadn't even noticed until then, flattened to a chute at her spell and grabbing hold of Ron, Harry and I Hermione forced all four of us down the shaft, just as the Death Eaters behind us were picking themselves up off the floor. I left my stomach behind me as we slid down the chute, my hair billowing behind me as we shot downwards, the air whistling past us. There was only darkness bellow, none of the torches were lit down here and we couldn't see a thing as we whooshed on. That was until a jet of green light suddenly shot over our heads, casting an eerie glow over the walls until it collided with the stone ahead of us. Reacting I looked over my shoulder as another spell soared past us and crashed into the wall, shattering it and raining rocks down on top of us, by the light of their spells I could see the Death Eaters sliding down the chute behind us and I felt myself scowl. Adamant that they not catch us I turned back to face where we were going, my mind racing as desperately tried to think of a way to stop them, however, my thoughts were pulled up short, as no sooner than I was looking forwards again than we reached the bottom of this helter-skelter of horror. My eyes wide I coughed as we crashed through the dusty tapestry that concealed the entrance to the passageway and slid across the corridor floor before colliding with the wall with a painful thump.

Groaning I pushed myself up from the tangle of limbs that was my friends and me, and looked out through a curtain of my hair at the corridor around us, wanting to know where we had ended up. One glance told me that we were in the dungeons, near where I knew the Slytherin common room was, and that thought struck a chord with me. My memory prickled. Another day, that felt so surreal to me now that it could have been another time compared to where we were today, with another face and in another fight. Prickled by the mere remembrance I backed away from it and refused to think any more about that. There were more important things.

"Duro!" Hermione cried, abruptly shocking my from my thoughts in time to see her turn her wand on the tapestry we had just flown through, the rippling green material suddenly snapped still, firm and solid as the stone walls around it just as the sound of Death Eaters who had been chasing us grew closer. They collided with the tapestry with a sickening bang, one that caused all four of us to cringe but we couldn't be distracted by that, this was war and we had to play our parts.

"Get back!" Ron roared as we all scrabbled to our feet, throwing his arms out and ensuring that we all took a step back and pressed ourselves against the wall just as a herd of desks raced past us, their legs clopping on the flagstones like hooves.

"CHARGE!" Professor McGonagall bellowed as she chased after the desks, urging them forwards with her wand and so absorbed in what she was doing that she appeared not to notice us.

"Come on," I said as McGonagall and her flock passed, pushing off from the wall and starting towards the spiral staircase that would lead us up to the next floor, to the Entrance Hall.

"Wait," Hermione called out to me before turning to Harry and saying, "you get the Cloak on, never mind us-" apparently Harry did mind us as, however, and pulling me back towards them, he threw the Cloak over all four of us despite how we all knew it would no longer cover us all, we could only hope that in amongst this madness no one would notice our disembodied feet.

Well aware that time was of the essence, together we tore up the staircase out of the dungeons and emerged to find the Entrance Hall had become a battle field; there were duellers everywhere, familiar darting faces following the steps of this deadly dance. I spotted Pavarti and Dean amongst the duellers, fighting masked Death Eaters under the encouragement of the nearby portraits, who cheered whenever a Hogwartian landed a spell and shouted insults at the attacking Death Eaters. Above this insanity Peeves created yet more, dropping all kinds of disgusting objects on the heads of the Death Eaters as he sang taunting rhymes at them and shot about the room in a dizzying distracting blur. Watching Peeves as he upended an entire barrel of worms, doubtlessly pilfered from the greenhouses, over one outraged Death Eater, I pulled up short and stopped suddenly, causing my friends to bang into me and ask me what was wrong, I hardly heard them though. Heart pounding distinctively in my chest everything else seemed to fade away a little as I caught sight of someone who immediately captured my full attention. Draco Malfoy, looking sooty and harassed, sprinted suddenly onto the landing above us. Gaze narrowing I watched as he ran, skidding to a stop when he was confronted by a Death Eater he immediately stopped anxiously scanning the crowds, as he had been doing before, and focused on his fellow, who it seemed didn't recognise him at all, much to the blonds apparent distress. Malfoy raised his hands up, his wand clearly visible, in an obvious surrender but the Death Eater paid no heed, his scarred face only twisted into a smile as he took a threatening step towards his colleague.

My reaction was reflexive, instinctive, as natural to me as breathing though even as I ducked under the Cloak, dodging my friends' attempts to stop me, and pointed the Hawthorn wand upwards I couldn't imagine why it would be so. "Stupefy!" I cried, my gaze fixed on the boy who was coming to the abrupt realisation that he couldn't talk his way out of this situation, as the jet of red light shot upwards across the Entrance Hall and struck the Death Eater right in the shoulder.

I felt the most unwelcome sense of satisfaction as the attacking Death Eater stumbled back and crashed to the floor, unconscious, but adamant as ever I put it down to beating yet another of those scumbags, and to prove that to myself I turned my wand on Malfoy in one easy, fluid movement. Without lowering it or hesitating for even a second. Look at me, I thought, unimaginable ire building up inside of me as I trembled with what I told myself was anticipation, willing Malfoy, who was now wild-eyed and scanning the crowds of fighters for his saviour, to spot me here. I wanted him to know that I have saved him, to know what I had just done before I jinxed him, it'd give him something to think about, I thought firmly even as my stomach twisted in sickening knots and I felt the strongest desire to just step back and walk away. I didn't get the change to go either way though; the choice was made for me as my friends grabbed hold of me from behind and pulled me back under the Cloak, their hands firm and steadying even though I went with only minimal resentment for my lost opportunity.

"He's not worth it," Hermione told me, looking sympathetic as she patted me on the arm gently and I looked at her, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.

"I don't know," Ron mused with a slightly shaky laugh, a visible sign of strain, "I've always said she's the only one who could really wipe that smug smile off his face."

No one had anything to say to that, least of all me, and shaking off the strange feeling that had descended on me I moved with the others as we wove our way through the duellers, helping our friends were we could and trying to reach the front door. I didn't look back as we made our way across the room, not even when Ron, laughing nervously again, told us that Professor Trelawney was dropping her crystal balls on the heads of the Death Eaters, I couldn't chance it, I didn't want to risk seeing him again. I needed a clear head, and that was one thing I most certainly did not have around Draco Malfoy. In the end though, that didn't matter, because some things were more important that grudges and betrayal, and I'd take on Voldemort himself for such things. Screams, terrified, horror movie shrieks echoed throughout the Entrance Hall, sending a thrill of knowing fear through me, I didn't need to look up to know what was happening, but I couldn't not. An entire swarm of Acromantula had burst through the oaken doors and in that one moment this war didn't matter anymore, united against a common foe both Hogwartian and Death Eater turned they're wands on the oncoming danger, some even backing up and fleeing together in fear. As the first of the spiders fell, succumbing to the wizards' attacks, Hagrid's anguished cries sounded out, carrying even over the noise of the ruckus around us and drawing our panicked attention.

"Don't hurt 'em, don't hurt 'em!" he pleaded, racing down the Grand Staircase, pink umbrella in hand and charging straight into the throngs. My heart stuttered at the sight and fear seized me, Malfoy was the furthest thing from my mind as I watched Hagrid plough recklessly through the crowds towards the creatures that would eat him as soon as look at him, but still he wanted to protect them. Like me, my trusting friend didn't know when to give up on something, apparently it didn't matter how many times we were bitten, we kept going back to stroke the beast that attacked us.

"Hagrid, don't!" I cried, going up onto my toes to get a better view, watching his bushy black head charging through the fighters, seeming not caring about his own safety he just kept going.

Harry moved so quickly that none of us saw it coming, he was out from under the Cloak and rushing off before any of us could so much as blink, bellowing for Hagrid to stop, instinctively I went to follow him, terrified that Hagrid was going to hurt himself but Ron, fearing I might do something stupid, stopped me while Hermione called out for Harry to come back.

"We'll go help him," he told me and without further ado we were racing forwards after Harry, our gazes fixed firmly on Hagrid who had reached the spiders now, his arms spread wide as he tried to shield them from the oncoming spells. My every fibre screamed in denial as I watched him, I couldn't believe the danger he was in and hated that I was helpless to stop it, Harry wasn't even halfway to Hagrid yet and I had the most awful feeling, I knew this wasn't good. I wasn't going to lose another friend.

My scream was inevitable, I couldn't stop it and I didn't want to, I wasn't ashamed of caring about my friends and shrill sound wasn't enough to convey the distress I felt as I watched Hagrid disappear under the mass of attacking spiders. They didn't stop for him, they carried on charging and as I completely lost sight of Hagrid I felt my entire body tremble at the horror.

"Come on," Ron insisted, urging us all forwards as Harry, still calling Hagrid's name, chased after the Acromantula as they retreated out of the castle, waning under the onslaught of spells, but not revealing Hagrid as they left.

Harry took off full speed after them, desperate to reach Hagrid, and we followed after him with just as much determination, however, he had had a head start and we didn't catch up to him until he came to a sudden stop behind the Acromantulas, who were scattering now as a giant foot crashed to the ground and shook the Earth and castle around us.

"HAGGER?" Grawp yelled in bewilderment, stomping around and smashing windows in his distress and search for his half-brother.

Breaking free of the Cloak again I shot forwards, dodging spells and giant arachnids and grabbing hold of Harry, whose cheeks glistened with tears, before he got himself killed. "Come on!" I urged, pulling on Harry's arm with all my might I gave him a look, my expression sympathetic and showing all of the grief I felt and Harry followed without resistance, knowing I wasn't trying to stop him, just save him.

Racing back towards the others, who were lifting the Cloak for us and motioning for us to be quick, but it was too late. My grip still tight on Harry's arm, I caught sight of something, a face emerging from the castle and watching us all with an intense look that sent shivers down my spine. "Hurry!" I yelled at my friend, trying to make him move faster, as I watched a familiar hostile face clocking our movements, a smug smile curling her lips. She was going to attack, going to get her revenge. Trudging through the now muddy ground I forced Harry forwards as we turned our back on that new threat, Harry hadn't seen her yet, but I knew she would take this chance to get him back.

I was right, she didn't let this golden opportunity pass her by, but it wasn't Harry who she hit, by mistake or design, her spell collided with me instead and letting go of Harry I felt my legs be knocked out from under me and was sent sprawling to the ground. Hands sinking in the mud, body jerking from the contact, I grit my teeth and forced myself to turn around, and sat on the floor I drew my wand and took aim at the bitch of a witch who had attacked me.

"Stupefy!" Harry cried from beside me, his voice stinging with rage as his spell shot towards the phony educator and she deflected it.

"Get out of here," I yelled, getting swiftly to my feet and cutting through the air with my wand to block her return shot.

"I'm not going anywhere!" Harry insisted, his voice determined and his eyes flashing as he turned to look at me, however, I was decided on the matter and I wasn't going to budge. There wasn't a choice here.

"There's no time to waste. Impedimenta!" I shouted, shooting my spell with earnest but in my passion not really paying enough attention to what I was doing, sending it far too wide, "You need to get to the snake," I told Harry as my opponent descended the steps with a hateful confidence and started towards us, "she's not going to leave us alone, I'll hold her off, the rest of you go!" I insisted blocking another spell while Harry looked undecided, but I could tell he saw the logic in my argument and was only fighting with his sense of duty. However, there was most definitely someone here who wasn't as hiding behind the rest of the crowds spilling outside, the Death Eater who had attacked me shot a spell at me that whistled past my head and caused me to have to duck. "I'll be fine!" I cried, needing Harry out of here and all of them safe so that I could focus on this fight, "Go!"

"We'll be right back!" Harry told me as he started to back away towards the others, and I nodded before turning back, sucking in a deep breath and ready to fight.

"I'll be finished by then." I growled menacingly, ready to give back what this woman had been dishing out, I'd heard all kinds of stories about the inhumane things she and her brother did and I was more than prepared to make her answer to it.

Dropping into a dueller's crouch I flexed my fingers around the Hawthorn wand and tightened my gaze as an overweight middle-aged witch forced her way through the crowds, a sneer puffing out her fat cheeks and her mocking eyes fixed squarely on me. She obviously didn't see me as much of a threat, no one ever did and it was starting to piss me off, but I knew better than she did, I knew exactly what I was capable when provoked, and all I could think as I raised my wand once more was, after everything that had happened tonight, she'd better be ready.

**Author note: Okay, not going to say anything much here other than that I'm not overly fussed with the way this ended, but really, I need to update and I don't know, maybe I'm just being picky. Anyway, I know the last few chapters had very long AN's so I'm not going to say anything else, just that I hope you enjoyed this. :)**

**Oh, todays title, in case it didn't quite add up with the chapter, has been used because of the song, 'Get up' by Barcelona, which I like for this chapter and some other ones too.**

**Oh, oh, oh, and I've just noticed, we just (literally just Ferfrie just reviewed last chapter, lol) hit the 270 mark, yay. Thank you so much everyone, once again, beyond my wildest dreams here. Well, this short author note thing didn't work out, ah well, the best laid plans of mice and men and all that x**

**Anonymous review replies:**

**Tink R Bell (I know you're not anonymous but it wouldn't let me email you): I'm so glad that you enjoyed it and understand the reasons behind the choices I made, thank you so much for the review love, hope you enjoy this chapter! X**

**JpMcreate: Awww, wow, sorry to have almost made you cry, but selfishly pleased as well, thank you for the review, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. x**


	35. Illogical hope

**Chapter thirty-five: Illogical hope**

**'We do not see things as they are. We see them as we are.' – Talmud**

**Draco**

He should have left a long time ago; Draco knew that, every logical part of his being was screaming at him to run, to get out of here before Potter brought down the full wrath of Voldemort and his Death Eaters upon the school. It was inevitable, and by staying where he was Draco wasted precious time, because the longer he stayed here and didn't do as the Dark Lord had commanded, the more he put himself at risk, but still he stayed. The heart wasn't a logical organ, Draco summarised, as he hurried through the corridors of Hogwarts Castle, scanning every inch of stone and dueller that he could see, searching for the one person who made him want to stay. If it were, logical that is, then his heart would have given itself to someone infinitely less troublesome and wholly more likely to give him their heart in return. No, the heart was reckless and cruel, it didn't consider what was best for itself or the body it inhabited, it wanted what it wanted and couldn't care less for the consequences, and this was never more plain or less important to Draco than now. He simply didn't care. At this moment in time there was only one thought that occupied his mind, one thing that mattered to him, and it wasn't his depleting chances of escape, because Draco knew, like that infuriating woman his heart had foolishly chosen, he couldn't leave until this was over.

There had been times, of course there had been, far too numerous to mention, when Draco had wished it wasn't so, when he had hoped that fate might take pity on him and free him from the chains of love, sever the ties that bound his heart to hers and had caused him so much agony. But, regardless of how he often felt he'd cut the wretched thing out of his chest just to spare himself the pain of emotion, Draco found that he wouldn't change his feelings for the world. In spite of her sharp tongue and current hatred for him, Ivy had given him something no one else ever had or, he knew, ever would again. Hope. The belief that there was a chance that he could be more than what he had always been, a shallow bully who let his pride dictate his actions (those words weren't his own, Draco was sure he'd heard Ivy use them against him before). Last year, when everything had been good, he had seen something in Ivy's eyes when she looked at him, and it had looked suspiciously like respect, as though she could see a Draco that no one else could, slowing making an emergence in her presence, and the feeling that gave him, it was indescribable. But she always did that, he didn't know why he was so surprised, every time he saw her, no matter how miserable the circumstances or how much she professed to hate him, five minutes reunited with her and he found himself believing in all kinds of foolish chances, all kinds of impossibility. Really, Draco thought, shaking his head in disbelief, they ought to lock him up in St Mungo's, because some of the dreams she inspired were downright delusional. However, he'd have to worry about his reasons and his sanity later, because there as an infinitely more urgent and important task at hand. And so, because the very thought of the girl who had seen something better in him being harmed was so unbearable to him, like the idiot he was Draco was still here, even though it was dangerous to do so, and not just for the same reasons as everyone else.

Draco was defying his master; every breath Ivy took Draco went against the Dark Lord's orders and tightened the noose he was wrapping around his own neck. Voldemort, Draco thought as his face twisted in scorn, was a bigger idiot than Longbottom if he thought Draco was going to actually do what he said, to actually KILL Ivy, the girl who he had spent the past year try to protect and had been punished for doing so. Why would he go through so much only to take her life himself? It was the most insane idea Draco had ever heard. He knew that Dark Lord would be furious, that there was no coming back from this, no clever spin to make sure he was back on the safe side when this all blew up, but Draco had decided that no longer mattered.

Running now, as jogging down the corridors wasn't fast enough for him; Draco took off towards the staircases, his breathing quick and frantic and his eyes just the same. After Ivy had left with Potter and the others, after that sickening display where she had made the Golden Boy promise to keep safe, a scene which to watch had had the same effect on his emotions as the Cruicatus Curse had on his body, Draco had sat alone with Goyle. Knowing he should be thinking about Crabbe but unable to get Ivy out of his head, or to stop the crawling sensation her worry for someone else had brought over his skin. Draco had sat there, his legs drawn close, his head in his hands and his expression conflicted and distressed, battling the urge to get up and follow her. It was an irrational urge, she had Potter, she had her friends, she ought to be safe enough with them, but he didn't like her going off without him and the hopefulness she had sparked in him when she saved him in the Room of Requirement still flickered stubbornly in his chest, in spite of her nauseating concern for Potter. He wanted to go to her, to make sure that she was safe, that was after all, the reason he was still here in the first place. However, while suddenly a dreamer, Draco wasn't a fool, he knew she wouldn't welcome his presence, no matter how warmly she had reacted to him when he held her on the broom. Draco had his eyes shut, scowling deeply at the floor and was savouring the memory of her body in his arms when he heard it. A great boom and then a rumble, vibrating the floor beneath him as a cascade of sound echoed through the corridor and shrill screams rang out. Familiar screams, one, familiar scream.

Draco was on his feet in an instant and sprinting in the direction of the explosion as fast as his feet would carry him. Cold sweat spotted his forehead as he came to a stop where there had once been part of the seventh floor corridor and now was a gaping hole, there was no sign of life anywhere, and dread chilling him to the bone Draco took tentative steps forwards, walking cautiously on the crumbling floor. His heart was in his throat as he peered over the edge and down into the rubble strewn corridor below, however, relief flooded through him with the force of a tidal wave when he caught sight of petite brunette, stumbling across the ash and rubble, her face a picture of determination even from this distance. Holding his balance Draco watched as Ivy reached Weasley, who stood immobile amongst the wreckage, her voice carried above the shouted cries and booms of the battle, reaching Draco as he heard her trying to coax her friend into moving. This didn't work, and Ivy quickly decided a more hands on approach was needed and grabbed hold of his arm, pulling a clearly resistant Weasley out of the way. Scrambling across the debris the pair disappeared from sight, walking further back into the corridor bellow, and Draco, still looking down through the hole, moved with them, desperately trying to follow her progress, but she was gone.

Heart pounding Draco couldn't just leave her there, he had to know if she was alright, yes she was alive but she had clearly fallen through the floor with the others and she could have suffered any number of horrible injuries, and weakened she presented an appealing target. Taking off running Draco turned around and raced back the way he had come, sprinted past Goyle, who looked up questioningly as his friend rushed by, and headed for the staircases. And there he was, tearing downwards, taking the steps two at a time, and desperate to reach Ivy and make sure she was safe. Leaping the last three stairs Draco skidded as he raced down the devastated but mercifully empty corridor, dodging upended tables and broken statues Draco ran towards where the corridor above had collapsed, sure that Ivy couldn't have gone far. Panting Draco slowed to a stop when the pile of rubble came into view, looking upwards at the gaping hole in the ceiling and then back at the empty corridor. There were fighters all the way at the other end, but he could tell from here that none of them were Ivy or her friends, so where was she? Chest rising and falling with his exertion Draco continued to look around, scanning the corridor desperately as though half expecting Ivy to jump out from behind a tapestry and yell surprise, frustrated Draco knew there was nothing he could do just standing here, they must have already left, and letting out a growl of annoyance he turned heel and ran back the way he had come. She wasn't there anyone, but that didn't matter, he thought resolutely as he raced on, his expression set with his determination, he'd still find her, he had to.

**Ivy**

"You think you're brave, little girl?" Carrow asked, smirking with arrogance as she strode towards me, shrouded in the sickly green glow cast by her fellows' spells. I didn't know how long she had been in the battle, clearly someone had found her in the Ravenclaw common room and reversed the spells upon her, but she seemed unharmed and unruffled, confident. "Because you told your friends to leave? Are you all alone?" She asked in a baby voice as she stuck out her bottom lip as though pouting and made a crying face, causing her fat cheeks to swell repulsively.

Tensing at her sarcastic tone I did my best not to show my irritation, not wanting her to have the satisfaction, "It looks that way, Carrow," I said as I rose steadily to my full height, focused entirely on the witch in front of me and refusing to so much as flinch when a spell collided with a nearby beam, blasting it apart with a deafening crash, "and yeah actually, I do feel brave."

Carrow's mocking expression wavered at my nonchalant comments, she clearly wasn't used to her victims fighting back too often, well, I thought with some amusement, she was going to hate me then, because even though I had never met this vile woman before, everything about her irritated me. She was everything that was repulsive about the Death Eaters rolled into one despicable being, standing here, watching as a brief flicker of frustrated confusion flashed across her round features and she scowled, I felt my hatred for this women swell up inside of me. I was glad she had attacked us, glad that I had the chance to fight her; she was one of the twisted monsters who had been terrorising this school all year, torturing my classmates, people I cared about, just look at what she had done to Neville! This vile creature before me was revolting, heartless and just plain cruel, and I wanted to make her pay for what she had done.

"That's the biggest mistake you've made yet, child." Alecto Carrow sneered, her stupid pride coming back into play and pulling her hunched back up straight and haughty she cried, "Crucio!"

"Protego!" I shouted, blocking the spell with one swift, zealous wave of my wand, like a back handed serve in tennis. Straining with the effort to deflect such a powerful spell I clamped my jaw tightly and fought to stay strong as the spell rebounded of my own, the sheer force of that collision blowing my hair back off my shoulders and almost knocking me back. I remained firm though, and without so much a second's hesitation yelled, "Impedimenta!" swinging my wand back on her.

Carrow, taken slightly off guard by the speed of my response, had to move fast to block the oncoming spell, stumbling back a bit in surprise but parrying it with an ease that inflated her grotesque ego and caused the smug little witch to sneer at me tauntingly. Dropping once again into a ready crouch I gave her a look like ice as she threw out her arm towards me and yelled, "Diffindo!" taking a bouncing side step I blocked her attack with a cry of,

"Finite Incantatem!" however, at that moment the earth shook beneath our feet and two great guttural roars sounded out as Grawp collided with another giant and began a vicious fight that sent many screaming for cover. We were far enough away not to be in any immediate danger, I knew that because I was sure was there any threat to us Carrow would have already taken off to protect herself, and she was still here. However, the tremors caused by their fights shook the ground so much that it used my momentum to block Carrow's spell against me, and I was knocked off balance, arms pin wheeling and rocking on my heels to try and stay upright, I struggled, much to my classless opponent's amusement.

"Pathetic, Mudblood," she cackled, her own legs spread so wide that the giants' shockwaves hardly moved her, though from the size of her, I thought vindictively as I steadied myself, they would have had a job on anyway. "If you'd have had a brain in your filthy head you'd have kept your friends 'ere with you. Crucio!"

"Finite Incantatem!" I yelled, giving my wand an awkward wave to protect myself from her spell before I had even turned round to face her properly, there wasn't the time. Ignoring her words I straightened up, not here for a conversation but a fight, and with a movement that brought me right back to facing Carrow I cried, "Reducto!" but once again Grawp and his opponent got in the way as at the exact moment I cast the spell the other giant pushed Grawp backwards, sending Hagrid's half-brother stumbling back with a series of footsteps that sent shockwaves through the ground like an earthquake. I managed to stay upright and hold my balance, but my spell shot wide, zooming dangerously close Hogwartian heads but mercifully hitting no one as it collided with a statue instead, catapulting rock into the crowd. Carrow laughed.

"Look at you," she crowed as I span back around to face her, "so aggressive and angry, I'll bet you don't even know why, do you, little girl? Why you're so angry all the time? Well, I've heard a lot about you Seer, and I know why. It's because you're not good enough."

"Impedimenta!" I cried, lashing out at her words with a force so instinctive and natural to me that I didn't even think about it at all, I just reacted. Furious, I shot my spell at Carrow.

She blocked it easily, "See!" she taunted with glee, "All you just did was prove my words, Mudblood, you're not as smart, or as brave or as skilled as your friends, that's why you need them so much, why you don't stand a chance against me."

"Stupefy!" I exclaimed, more satisfied than I could say when the spell cut tantalisingly close to Carrow, taking her off guard, "or maybe, I just don't like you." I growled, the force of two spells colliding with a boom behind me sending a gust of wind and magic across the grounds, causing my hair to billow around my head.

"How dare you, you filthy Mudblood!" Carrow bellowed, as though sincerely offended by what was, by my standards, quite a weak insult, so much so that she didn't react at all when a parried spell shot between the two of us, so close to me that my heart leapt into my throat and I had to jump back to avoid being hit. "You ain't got the right to talk to your betters like that. You're an insult to witchcraft, a disgusting freak of nature, and still you're full of arrogance. You stuck up little tart! But no matter," Carrow said, her expression darkening and a sardonic smile twisting her lips, "I'll be sure to knock it out of you, just like we did to your boyfriend."

I froze then, and how could I not? Too many emotions raged inside of me, pulling me up short with a confusion so strong, a fury so abrupt and a concern so profound that it was shocking. I felt numb with it all. "What?" I asked, silence falling for me where everything beyond me and Carrow was concerned.

Carrow smirked, a cruel mocking action, and carried on as though she hadn't heard me, "I've been looking forward to meeting you, Seer. All I've heard for the past two years is how powerful you are, how important you are, but I didn't ever believe it, not until Voldemort handed us your little boyfriend to punish." Carrow provoked, pulling me up short with her words as I tried to make sense of what she was saying, to understand who she was talking about. I was standing still, letting the madness of the battle rush around me, my wand hanging loosely by my side and even though the rational, logical part of my brain was shouting at me to move, to fright or protect myself, I didn't, I could only stand there, my blood roaring in my ears as loudly as the sounds of the war. I didn't understand.

"Diffindo!" Carrow suddenly cried, lashing out with her wand and talking me completely by surprise, looking up there was just enough time for my heart to stutter with fear before the spell collided with my cheek, knocking back my head. Blood exploded from the wound, dripping sticky and wet down my face and stumbling back I let out a yelp of outraged disbelief and staggered, almost tripping over something soft and unmoving on the floor. Free hand pressed to my cheek I tightened my grip on the Hawthorn wand and looked up to face Carrow, who was once again cackling.

"What powers you have, Mudblood," she laughed sarcastically, "It dunt make any sense why anyone would want you, but for some reason they do. Like I said, Seer, I didn't believe it until I saw him, going through all that punishment for you, all because he had to save you," Carrow continued, moving to circle me slowly, her tone still mocking. I followed her with narrowed eyes, but didn't say a word, I couldn't, what she had said was paralysing me, her words starting to take hold. "turns out, you've got powers over hearts as well as magic, Mudblood, aren't you proud? I have to say, your pathetic little boyfriend didn't seem too pleased about it when we were torturing him."

"No," the word escaped my lips, barely a whisper of sound but spoken none the less, I had no control over it, my head wasn't in the driver's seat anymore and it was another, more reckless organ making my decisions now, and the chains that had bound it for so long were starting to crack. "Stupefy!" I cried, throwing out my arm and letting the spell fly, it missed Carrow by inches but she only laughed at my impassioned attempts.

"Did I hit a nerve?" she asked, stopping her circling to turn back and face me. Breathing heavy for reasons that had nothing to with exhaustion I grit my teeth and yelled,

"Impedimenta!" feeling a fury beyond anything else when the still smirking bitch blocked my spell and placed her hand above her heart sardonically.

"Aw, I think I did, what's wrong little baby, don't want to hear how we made your beloved Draco suffer for protecting you?" she asked, pulling a sarcastically sympathetic face, which she ruined when she sniggered cruelly at her own joke.

"Crucio!" I screamed my blood aflame and my heart in agony I didn't care about the rules any more, I just wanted to hurt her, to really make this twisted cow suffer. Carrow was stunned, she only just blocked my spell and her smirk vanished from her face as she realised how close she had been to being solely at my mercy, and in the mood I was in I didn't feel particularly generous. Fighting my anger for every ragged breath I took, I didn't give her the chance to recover; Carrow had the time to do little more than blink in confusion before I cried, "Reducto!" My spell slammed into her ample chest and sent the repulsive witch flying backwards, too shocked to even scream.

Carrow hit the floor with a thud, and straightening up I looked over at her, rolling on the floor and groaning in her pain, it wasn't enough, my rage wasn't satisfied, she still hadn't gotten what she deserved. Panic contorted Carrow's chubby features as I started towards her, eyes going wide the cowardly witch scrambled to her feet and looking back over her shoulder at me fearfully, staggered off into the crowds, desperate to escape. Not about to let her get away I took off after her, dodging spells and other duellers, making sure to keep Carrow in my sight I sprinted across the muddy plains, like a woman possessed. A line had been crossed, one that anyone with any sense would have left well enough alone. "Stupefy!" I yelled, aiming at Carrow over the heads of the other fighters, with a squeak she ducked to avoid the spell, however fortunately it hit another Death Eater instead, one who hit the earth to the sound of Seamus' shouted thanks.

Furious I tore onwards, forcing my way through the battling masses until Carrow broke through the crowds and made it the patch of empty grass before the castle, sprinting for the doors. "Impedimenta!" I yelled, purposefully aiming just ahead of Carrow so that the fleeing witch had no choice but to stop, horror in her features as my spell cut her off, reluctantly, she turned back to face me and I slowed, ready to resume our duel.

"Avada kedavra!" she cried in desperation, but her spell was wild and poorly aimed, so in her fear she missed me completely.

"Reducto!" I snapped, flinging the spell at her but this time Carrow managed to block it, with one close, frantic movement. However, now there was no smug little comment to accompany her small victory, no taunting and not a hint of a smirk in her expression, it had taken a while, but maybe the arrogant woman was starting to understand that I wasn't someone to be messed with, not with this.

"Crucio!" she shrieked, so close to her escape that the golden glow spilling into the grounds from the school bathed her in its light, giving her a halo she didn't deserve. She knew that she was almost there, you could see it in her expression, the nervous, trying anticipation, she knew she didn't have far to go and that I was far enough away that I couldn't even see inside the castle, let alone reach her in time to stop her, that was if she could shake me.

"Protego!" I blocked, parrying the spell easily, in such a state of emotional distress, in such a rage that I felt as though I could have taken on Voldemort himself and wouldn't have even broken a sweat. Assured that my victory was inevitable I took a deep breath and chose my next spell, ready to really show her what I was capable of I almost smiled as I took aim at her with my wand, however, what happened next put a stop to all of that.

Suddenly, Carrow's entire expression tightened, scowling she looked off somewhere over my shoulder and pointed as she bellowed, "Potter!"

I knew it was suspicious, knew it was convenient that Harry should be here now and knew that Carrow wasn't an honourable opponent, but none of that mattered, I had thought, I wasn't going to turn around and look, not yet. It wouldn't have made any difference if I had though, as my indecision, my one second of hesitation where I thought about it, was all that Carrow needed.

"Impedimenta!" she yelled and the next thing I knew the air was rushing out of my lungs and feeling as though I had been hit by a speeding car, the spell sent me tumbling backwards. Crashing to the floor I groaned and arched my back against the pain, and felt a loss and disappointment so strong that I actually wanted to close my eyes and lay down when my wand shot out of my hand and fell to the grass just out of reach. My heart plummeted with my wand. Following it with my eyes I knew it was too far away, and I felt all my self-assuredness evaporate when I quickly turned back to see Carrow smirking down at me, her wand trained firmly on my chest, revelling in the turn the duel had taken, her smugness was back again. Crap, was all I could think as I set my jaw and turned back to my wand, gaging the distance, trying to decide if I could get to it before she cursed me.

"Not a chance, Mudblood," she taunted, taking a confident step towards me, able to do so now she had the upper hand. Heart pounding I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my mind franticly searching for a way out of this but coming up with nothing, there was no time; my wand was too far away. I braced myself, "Avada-ah!"

Carrow's abrupt scream and my continued presence in this world was more shocking but more welcome than I could begin to say, astounded I looked up, wide eyed in disbelief as I watched Carrow stagger back, her hands pressed against her front teeth, which had grown rapidly to the size of two dessert spoons under her palms. Shrieking Carrow knocked back her head and pushed as she desperately tried to force her briskly growing chomppers back inside her gums, and though I stared in amazement at the sight before me and had to blink to clear my head, I didn't waste another second. Diving for my wand I snatched in from the prickly grass and span back to face Carrow. Pointing my wand up at her I didn't hesitate to yell, "Stupefy!"

Carrow stopped her thrashing and fell to the floor with a thump of finality, and though she was still and unconscious, the foul witches' teeth continued to grow, increasing in size, even though together they were already as large as a frying pan. Heart pounding, my chest rising and falling with the force of my erratic breathing, I looked around, my eyes desperately seeking the caster of the spell that had saved me, looking past the Hogwartian's fighting around me I looked towards the castle, sure that the spell had come from inside, but unable to see anyone or anything that might have helped me. But someone had, I thought, my gaze flicking back to Carrow's grotesque teeth and my memory prickling. And there was something else too, someone else had suffered that same humiliating spell, I was sure of it, I just couldn't think who or when, but that wasn't important now, what mattered was that someone had saved me, and I knew full well without their intervention I would be dead now. The gravity of that laying heavy on me I just sat there, a target on the cool grass, lost in my thoughts and trying to figure out where that spell might have come from. Until a serpentine voice cut through the night air, creeping over the grounds and my skin like frost, pulling my attention away from the Entrance Hall and my saviour.

"You have fought," Lord Voldemort's arrogant tones spoke hauntingly across the grounds, bringing everyone, Death Eater and Hogwartian alike, to a stop, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery." I bet you do, I thought cynically, remembering my time at Malfoy Manor and Draco's apparent torture, a strange kind of discontentment coming over me at the thought of the latter.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses." Voldemort continued, and I watched with a deep frown as everyone around us looked skywards to listen, wrong direction, I thought with a quiver of rage, "If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilt is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately." Turning I saw the remaining Death Eaters lower their wands begrudgingly, many of them eyeing their duelling partners with open threats that clearly said they would be back to finish this very soon. "You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

An hour, I thought, digging my heels into the earth and turning back around, away from the Death Eaters retreating back to their master and the fighters suspiciously watching them leave, one hour until this madness resumed. The thought triggered something in me, bringing on aches and pains and a deep tiredness that I had been able to ignore during the heat of battle, being still now and somewhat safe, I was losing the almost invincibility adrenaline had given me and I just wanted to lay down and go to sleep, but there wasn't the time, there was so much to do now. Pushing myself to my feet I gripped the Hawthorn wand just a tightly as before as I steadied myself and prepared to make a start, I should go looking for the others now, see if they were alright, however, Voldemort wasn't finished yet.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you." His menacingly spoken words pulled me to a stop, halting me where I stood, turning I looked towards the Whomping Willow, underneath which my friends and disappeared in search of Voldemort, almost expecting to see the snake monster standing there now, "You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for you for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

My anger, still in abundance despite the events of tonight, bubbled up inside of me and reached boiling point. Tightening my grip around the Hawthorn wand I cursed Voldemort for this, for everything, for existing, but most of all for knowing exactly where to strike at Harry to make him do something stupid. My friend was a good man, an honourable man, and if he thought that people were getting hurt because of him then that was it, he'd hand himself in, no matter what promises he had made to me. He couldn't understand that as much as we were all supporting him, each and every person here had their own reasons for fighting, their own causes, we all wanted to be free of Voldemort's oppression, and all Harry could see was people putting themselves in danger to help him, not a community of people standing up for what they believe in. I need to find him, I thought, walking quickly away from the castle doors, where all the other exhausted, battle worn fighters were heading and towards the Whomping Willow where the others had gone.

There would be no reasoning with Harry now, he'd do what Voldemort wanted without a seconds rational thought, and I'd chain the reckless hero to my wrist if that was what it took to keep him from putting himself in harm's way. My fatigue was starting to get to me, I felt drained, heavy, like I was carrying around two led weights that were pulling my body downwards, but still I carried on, staggering across the grass, trying to blink away my tiredness. I had to stop, unable to take another step just yet as the world span around me, I was careless not stupid, and lifting a steadying hand to my head just as nausea rolled my stomach I realised what was coming. No! I thought, stumbling on, knowing it was futile to even try and fight it but knowing I had to anyway, I needed to get to Harry; I needed to keep my friend safe. The Powers That Be had other ideas though, and with a blast like a rush of artic air a spectral wind gusted across the front of my mind, wiping everything away, robbing me of all sensation but the tremendous shock that rocketed through me, preceding this vision.

The world didn't fade to black, there wasn't the time, the grassy landscape before me was pulled out from before my eyes like a rug from underfoot, but almost immediately and with stunning abruptness a new sight exploded before my Inner Eye. Gold, the lighting was gold and red here, low lamplight casting shadows over everyone and everything in the demolished corridor, especially the sharp, pale lines of the face in front of me. A fire, separate from the torches burning behind him, blazed in his fluid blue eyes, his expression fierce but twitching, lips quivering, Draco Malfoy lowered his wand arm, lifting his chin in just the barest hint of satisfaction, and continued to stare away from me, as though his very life depended on what was going on over my shoulder. But it wasn't his life, not really it was something else….that rare glimmer of insight was ripped away from me abruptly as I was pulled from the vision and thrown back into reality, my head spinning horribly, but my legs supporting my weight, I found myself back in the grounds. Thrilled by that, by the chance that I might be getting over whatever had made me pass out when I had a vision, I almost laughed until my Sight decided to teach me not to get too cocky just yet and my stomach lurched with sickness, causing me to have to wrap my arms around my waist and completely forget about what I had seen. Taking a few deep breaths I was trying to remember things, to figure out what I was supposed to be doing, when a voice suddenly called out to me.

"Ivy?" Hermione said, her voice a question and I looked up to find her eyeing my current position with worry "are you alright."

"I'm fine," I told her as she reached me, looking shaken with a pale Ron and Harry walking beside her, they all looked awful and my triumph over my improvements with my sight vanished immediately as I sat up and asked, "what happened?" frightened their efforts had gone terribly wrong. However if that were true and the worst case scenario really had happened then surely they wouldn't be here to talk to me, Voldemort would have already got them.

Hermione, blinking away tears, looked down at her feet, clearly not up to answering and Harry had a very distant, dangerous look in his eyes, as though he were far away right now, a look that had never boded well for his safety, and so it was left to a slightly haunted looking Ron to explain, "We didn't get the snake," he told me, "but Snape's dead, we watched Voldemort kill him." My eyes shot wide at that and I looked over at the three of them in disbelief, their morose moods suddenly making sense. None of us had ever liked Snape, he'd been harsh to each and every one of us, Harry in particular, he had killed Dumbledore and was Voldemort's right hand man, but still, to watch him die, to hear it now, it was something that shocked you no matter your relationship with the guy.

"Let's go," I said, not really sure of what else to say, I didn't think sorry was appropriate, but I couldn't leave us all to stand here in silence, "everyone's heading back to the school now; we'd better go and see what the plan is." The others agreed, and together we started to walk back towards the castle. Trudging up the sloping lawn I couldn't help but look at Harry, he still hadn't said a word and that pensive look was still on his face, but there was something more now, like he knew exactly what his plan was, and I didn't like it, not at all.

Moving in silence we neared the castle steps, each one of us lost in thought as we walked through what had been a battle field only five minutes ago, and now, empty of all living things, it looked even more so. Dark shapes, still and silent, lay scattered on the grass, bodies of the people who had fallen during the battle, a battle that was still far from over. Hastily blinking away tears of my own, I quickly looked away from the bodies of my fellow fighters, who I hadn't so much as seen during the battle, even though most of them would have been there a while, and tried not to let it get to me too much, we still had to go on and finish this. But I was only human, and this abrupt and harsh lesson as to how fragile life really was, was creeping up on me. All of us, each and every person in the war, was seconds away from death, it could happen at any moment, and so many had already lost their lives. I didn't even think that this was it, the shadows lying on the earth, there had to be more inside, and that thought was earth shattering. I was trembling by this point, fighting back tears and hysteria, determined to be brave but overwhelmed by it all, we had to think of something, we had to end this, what would we all do if there were any more casualties? As one sombre procession my friends and I ascended the short flight of steps into the castle, and I was just afforded a glimpse of the destruction in the Entrance Hall, all shattered stone and devistation, when a sudden dizziness overcame me once again. There was no confusion this time, I knew exactly what was happening when I swayed on the steps with the force of the oncoming vision and nausea took control, fighting to keep standing I looked up, the last thing I saw before my vision claimed me, before that otherworldly breeze took everything else away from me, was my friends, walking tried but tall into the Entrance Hall.

My vision tore through me like an electric current, electrifying every inch of me, every nerve, every sense, even as it took them away from this time and pulled me from the present. The shock of it pulled a gasp from my lips and jolted my whole body forwards but I was already gone by that point, my entire body tingling with the intensity of emotion and the urgency of this vision, I woke up deep within the castle. There was a long corridor, stretching and dark, none of the duellers had reached here and as there was nothing of great importance down this part of the school none of the torches were lit. I awoke to find myself walking down this corridor, clueless, no clear direction in my head, and I knew, even as I carried on, that it wasn't really me that was walking, that there was someone else here, matching my strides, or rather, I was matching theirs. I could tell that I wasn't really here, not really, there was only one set of footsteps echoing off the stone walls around me, and there was no mistaking the frustrated presence beside me.

Turning from the intimidating visage of the seemingly never ending corridor, the first thing I saw was a shock of messy blond hair, reflecting what little light there was to pick up here and shinning like the moon against the darkness around it, even though it was streaked black with soot. A trembling hand, almost as pale as the platinum hair, lifted up to rake through the already tousled strands in once swift, furious motion, never breaking his fast, almost desperate strides. This image captivated me, good sense restrained I could do little more than watch the tormented boy hurrying along beside me and try to keep up with him, I knew he didn't know where he was going, even without the empathy I always felt in my visions, it was plain in everything he did, that he didn't have a clue what he was doing. Everything from his twitching movements to his agitated steps told me so. He was a danger to himself, like this, he wasn't thinking, or rather, I thought looking at him again, he was thinking, just too much, and it was blinding him to what was around him. Draco was so wrapped up in whatever was bothering him so much that he didn't realise how the temperature seemed to suddenly drop, even when the chill of it shook his bones, or how everything seemed to feel that much worse now, completely out of the blue and for no apparent reason. He was completely unaware, I thought, with an ever increasing degree of distress, and he wouldn't understand until it was too late.

Everything was pulled away from me then, the vision sucked away like smoke by breeze, vanished before my eyes, tugging at my heart in my chest as it did, leaving me feeling desperate and empty. Exhaling I opened my eyes and found myself knelt on the steps, one hand and the smooth stone of the stair above and the other hanging loosely by my side, blinking I looked up, back to the light of the Entrance Hall and saw that my friends had only taken a few steps inside, that my vision had only taken a few seconds at most. My vision. Rising quickly to my feet I rushed after the others, turning the energy from the fear sprung adrenalin rushing through my body towards catching up to them, instead of dealing with what was frightening me. What had that been about? I asked myself as I reached the others just as they neared the Great Hall doors, which were thrown wide and revealed the room's new function as a hospital. Rows and rows of hospital beds lined the Great Hall, most of them filled with injured students, and the rest of the room taken up by the remaining fighters, mourners and volunteer healers. That was the second vision I had had of Draco in a matter of minutes, it didn't make any sense, what was I supposed to do with that? I wondered, somewhat irritably as I looked over my shoulder at the Entrance Hall, looking for the familiar blond head amongst the crowds of people walking solemnly behind us, but knowing he wouldn't be there, he would be with his master. Turning back just as we entered the hall I tried to shake of the ominous feeling these visions gave me, knowing it wouldn't do me any good to think of him. And with that in mind I walked with the others through the Great Hall, passing the wounded fighters, scanning the beds for our friends and gripping the ring around my neck with needful strength.

It was as we passed all the wounded that we saw them, the Weasley family standing as one entity, bound by grief at the very end of the room, surrounding what could only be Fred's body. They stood together, arms around each other as tears rolled down their battle scared faces, with the sole expression of Mrs Weasley, who was knelt beside her son, sobbing into his chest while George stared down at them both with the face of a man trapped in a nightmare. Harry, Hermione and I stopped, not going to go any closer, it was better we let them grieve as a family. Ron walked slowly towards his distraught family, hit by his brother's death anew, and headed for his father, who embraced him tightly, his cheeks glimmering with tears, before they rejoined the rest. Wanting to give them the respect and privacy they deserved I looked away, wiping away fresh tears as I did, however, what I saw when I turned to the side knocked me back like a blow to the stomach. My hand shot to my gaping mouth as a cry of anguish I barely realised I was making was ripped from my throat, the other two turned around at my outburst but I closed my eyes and shook my head. No, I thought, desperately willing this not to be true, no, not them, not them too. Warm, heavy tears spilled from my eyes and knowing I could deny it no longer I opened them, looking down at the two beds beside me but almost staggering as what I was seeing hit me again and I was no more capable of digesting it.

I heard Hermione gasp beside me, felt Harry stumble back a few steps against the tragedy, but I just continued to look down, through cloudy eyes, at the two people lying next to us, eyes lightly closed and expressions restful. Tonks and Lupin. Unable to bear it, feeling as though a chunk of my heart had been ripped out, I took two trembling steps forwards and brushed my hand against the bed stand, staring down at my pink-haired friend, the girl who had been like a big sister to me these past years, who had been good to me and who I had hardly spoken to this year at all, and couldn't believe what I was seeing. Gulping I made no effort to fight of the guilt assaulting me as I turned to face her husband, one of the best teachers and mentors I had ever had, and my tears welled afresh. No, this couldn't have happened, why didn't I see something? I had before, I'd saved Tonks before, why couldn't I do it this time? It wasn't fair, it wasn't their time to go, they'd really only just found each other, it wasn't right, they had a baby! Thinking of Teddy my heart broke, he'd just lost his parents, parents he would never really know. Turning I looked at Harry, standing as far back as he could, and I saw my own grief mirrored back at me, Harry couldn't take his eyes of the two of them, he only stood there and stared, his eyes shining with tears behind his glasses, and looking back at my two friends, laying still on the bed, I felt so shaken, so lost and unsure. If they were gone, if they couldn't make it out of this, who could?

This time, when the symptoms started, I didn't fight my vision. I welcomed the oncoming detachment, the freedom from this horror, as the room seemed to revolve around me and shocks shot through me, trembling I almost sobbed when the numbness started to take over, to remove me from this time. The otherworldly breeze was cooling, soothing the pounding in my head but not the aching in my heart as it wiped away the scene before me, but even my visions couldn't spear me from the headache of losing my two friends. The electric current zipped through my veins once again, thrilling me even as the cool breeze spread from my head over the rest of my body, no longer comforting it set me on edge as a violent shiver rocked my body and I was abruptly slung into another vision. Almost stumbling with the force of my appearance, I opened my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself, surprised to find that I was once again on a castle corridor, the one on the second floor, I noticed, spotting the grandfather clock standing against one of the walls. Taking a quizitive step forwards, my heavy heart lifting somewhat with curiosity as I peered at the ticking hands of the oddly frosted clock, reading quarter past the hour before the face iced over completely. A thud and a groan behind me shocked me from my thoughts, and reacting quickly I span around.

My heart caught in my throat, my gaze falling on the eerie black form of a Dementor, its tatted cloak waving in an unnatural breeze and I felt my blood run cold, finally iced by the chill that had covered my skin from the very moment I had gotten here. I should have known, I thought, my eyes wide with terror as I followed one dead, rotting hand to see someone pinned to the wall by the foul creature, thrashing in its grip, desperately trying to escape, but losing their strength and will to even try with every passing second, as the Dementor sucked all the hope from them. Dress shoes scraping against the wall, trying to push away, the Dementors captive grew weak, and going still with what sounded like a sigh of defeat, he gave up. Don't. The word flashed, quick and firm through my thoughts. Satisfied that its victim wasn't going to put up a fight the Dementor lifted its free hand towards its cloak with devastating slowness, before lowering its hood to reveal the faceless horror beneath. But more than that, now the hood was out of the way I had a clear view of who it was holding, though I already knew full well who it was. The heart still choking me in my throat gave a painful lurch as soot stained, deathly pale face came into view, eyelids closed in surrender and expression forlorn, Draco Malfoy waited for the Dementor to suck out his soul. The monstrous creature, more than happy to oblige, lent forwards, grotesque mouth stretching impossibly wide, I opened my own mouth to scream but all that came out was a shriek of outrage as I was roughly pulled away from the terrible future and dumped back in the present.

Coming back around, taking deep gasping breaths as though I had just ran a marathon, I was doubled over but still standing, hand going to my heart I gripped my ring tightly as fighting for my breath I looked across at Tonks and Lupin, my vision still painfully raw and my mind in chaos. I heard the other two asking me if I was alright, but their voices were distant, nothing more than echoes barely reaching me where I was, there was only two things registering with me now, Tonks and Lupin's murders and Draco's peril. I knew it was going to happen any second now, I could sense it, feel it, my connection to my Inner Eye was still strong, frighteningly so but I didn't care just then, all I knew was that Draco was in danger and that he needed me, now. Pushing myself upright I gave my departed friends one last look before I turned away, viewing the world in tunnel vision and focused on one thing and one thing only, the doors to the Entrance Hall. Taking off at a run I raced through the Great Hall, deaf to my friends' calls as they shouted after me, dodging fighters as they continued to stream into the hall, and gripping the Hawthorn wand tightly I voiced my desperate plea,

"Not him."

**Author note: Kind of rubbish, I know, and quite late as well, but I've started my first job this week and was training for it last, so please forgive me, but my mind is shutting down right now and hopefully there is something in here worth reading. Just a couple of things I want to say today.**

**There is another reason why this is later than it should have been, has anyone here read or heard of My Immortal, the fanfiction? Well, I hadn't until last week when KcFeric9278 introduced me to the commentary version by Chasing a fairytale (which I would highly recommend, it's very amusing). Now, you know me, I'm not a harsh person, but this commentary was really funny and My Immortal kind of inspired me to do a remake of my first chapter of Seeing, adding in the OC from My Immortal, Ebony (Enoby?), which took up a bit of writing time but has been really quite fun. If anyone knows what I'm talking about and wants to see this let me know, it's not finished yet, but I'd be happy to let you see it.**

**My next point, does anyone know any good forums? I don't know, I've never really been into them, not really, but I kind of felt like joining one yesterday and was completely unable to find one that appealed to me, so, any suggestions? Right then, thanks as usual guys for reading my story, you've all been amazing lately and there are so many new reviewers as well, its stunning, I don't know where you're all coming from, lol. :)**

**Anonymous review replies:**

**B: Thank you so much! Such a compliment, that you think Ivy belongs in the books and the films is an amazing thing to hear, thank you for the boost to my confidence and for just generally cheering me up, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Kungfupencil (Brilliant penname by the way): Thank you, what you said was really wonderful to read, I am so glad that you enjoy my writing and hope this chapter did your expectations justice.**

**Ellie: The ending is in sight love, but you know what I'm like, I take forever to write what any other writer could probably do in a chapter, we're not in too much danger yet, we've got a little while longer. Thank you for the review but what are you doing in my head? How on Earth did you know I was planning that? :)**

**Foxtail-Padfoot: Hello again Fox, I have to say, I love it when you read through to the end again, I like hearing your fresh takes on my stories. Have you found your copy of Wuthering Heights, and if so how are you finding it? Awww, thank you, I'm glad Ivy is still fitting into the Harry Potter world and its great to hear you are both looking forward to some Draco action and enjoying the general fighting action. That's what my sister said about part 2 as well, shamefully I haven't seen it yet (it sucks to be skint) but she says she didn't enjoy the ending for Draco or how he looked in the epilogue. Never fear though, I've got a little something in mind for him :)**

**Callie C: Thank you so very much, yours was a very detailed, well balanced review, and I am grateful for that. Of course I'm glad that you enjoyed the story, and was thrilled to hear how you whooshed through them both, but it's also good that you offered some constructive criticism, which is more than welcome. Trust me, if I wasn't used to it, my stories would be nothing short of horrific, if I didn't take on board advice from writers like you. I have a fondness for long, winding paragraphs and long sentences, its part of my whole frame of mind, ideas just stream forth and I simply have to get them all in, it's something I need to consider more really and regulate when I can. I'm glad that you enjoy this, thank you once again for the compliments and advice, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	36. What really matters

**Author note: this chapter is dedicated to my mum's boyfriend, without his technical wizardry I wouldn't have half this chapter and it certainly wouldn't be going up tonight, thanks to a computer that likes to crash. Mercifully he was able to find the file and save the day, phew.**

**Chapter thirty-six: What really matters**

**"The half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole." quote from BBC Merlin**

**Draco**

Wandering the silent corridors, which bore their scars of the battle just like everything else here, Draco felt the most unwelcome and strange sense of loneliness and isolation. He had nowhere else to go, no one to go and be with, ever since the ceasefire was called he had been walking the empty corridors of the school, alone, and it bothered him. He had always belonged to something, always, when he was young there was the pride and honour of being a Malfoy, and when he started school the prestige of being a Slytherin. It had never mattered to them that they hadn't bonded with the rest of the school; they had never felt like they had to, they were fine on their own and not remotely dependant on the friendship of the other houses, though of course for him that had simply not been the case. But that was beside the point, Draco thought, frowning down at his scuffed shoes. Lately of course, there had been the Death Eaters, he had been one of them, even though he was just a glorified whipping boy and he didn't want to be there really, he had still belonged and was part of something. That had all changed now though, Draco was no longer a Death Eater, there was no way that he could be, not now, and if he was honest he didn't feel much connection to his Malfoy or Slytherin brethren either. Draco was adrift, breaking free from the groups that had defined him all through his life and trying to figure out where that put him. He wasn't a Hogwartian, not really, Draco didn't want to watch the school fall or lose any more of his friends, but he felt no duty, no comradeship to those gathered in the Great Hall, and was prepared to bet his soon to be denied inheritance that they wouldn't welcome him if he did show up. So that left him here, drifting, wandering aimlessly on, on neither side of this war exactly, but leaning further away from the one he started on towards the one he was sure would fail. Draco fought for his own cause now, for his own reason, and there was only one thing that could keep him here to witness this disaster, and he would protect her at all costs.

Draco would be lying if he said he wasn't scared, in actual fact he became more so with every minute that passed. And what it was, that actually unsettled him so, was something he couldn't quite pin down. He'd been feeling steadily worse for moments now, and he could no longer remember exactly what had set this on, all he could think about where the many reasons why he should feel so distressed. He was going to die, quite obviously, there was no way Voldemort would suffer him to live after Draco betrayed him so, and that was a fact, also, no one but his parents would care when he died because no one would ever know all that he had suffered and all that he had done, how good he really could be, was a secret that would go to his grave with him. He had saved Ivy, allowing her to beat Carrow who seemed to have worked the fiery brunette up into a rage during the battle, but he wouldn't be around all the time to keep her safe and when he was she would never actually know it was him. She would carry on with her friends, worrying for them, for Potter, and never give him a second thought. Furthermore, if by some bizarre twist of fate he and everyone he cared about managed to get out of this alive then he would still have no one, for his parents would want nothing to do with their traitorous son who had fallen in love with a Muggleborn, and said Muggleborn would want nothing to do with the man who had betrayed her trust. She'd already moved on after all. It was a wonder he even carried on trying, Draco thought morosely, for what did he have, what did he actually stand to gain from all that he was putting himself through? The answer of course was nothing, but still he carried on, hurrying through the corridors of Hogwarts, desperate the find some purpose or for Voldemort to recommence the battle.

He was aimlessly walking down the far end of the second floor corridor, when he finally noticed that he was shaking. Rubbing his arms to find them covered in gooseflesh Draco frowned, what was all that about? The castle was never this cold, but he felt suddenly freezing. Deciding that the Death Eaters had obviously destroyed whatever charm kept this place warm, or that the teachers simply weren't bothered with maintaining it at the time, Draco carried on, trying to remember a thought which had been giving him pleasure just moments ago, but he struggled, it was something to do with Ivy and Carrow, who had tormented Draco a great deal this year, but he couldn't remember exactly what it was. This frustrated Draco more than anything else, but still he walked on, the end of the corridor and the corner to turn onto the next in sight, but hopelessness soon followed that. Despairing at his loss of memory and every other depressing realisation, Draco honestly wondered why he even bothered; it wasn't like he was ever going to be happy again. Shuddering as a fresh wave of cold passed over his body, chilling him, Draco was suddenly assaulted with the memory of that night last June. Ivy, the blazing orange light of the fire that consumed Hagrid's house flickering across her face, illuminating her frowning expression, and the warm night air toying with her hair, sat up and looked towards him, hatred and hurt blazing in her eyes.

"Traitor!" she hissed, her words cutting through Draco like a knife. What had I done? He wondered. How did I get to this point, where her words could wound me so, and her opinion was the only one that mattered?

Desperately trying to pull himself from the memory Draco shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but he could still hear that one word, echoing in his mind, and it tortured him. Gripping the spare wand, though he knew it would do him no good, Draco was hardly aware of what he was doing as he carried on walking, picking up his speed and franticly trying to find something to distract him, to make him forget about what he had done, but he couldn't, nothing could make him forget his wretched circumstances. What the Hell was the point? Draco was asking himself as that word, the same one branded forever on his hand, continued to repeat over and over in his mind, however, when a cloaked figure rounded the corner just ahead of him, all of that was temporary blown from his mind as Draco came to a terrified stop. Voldemort, he thought, trembling all over again, he hadn't done what the Dark Lord had asked and he was making the most of the armistice to come and make Draco pay for that. But then Draco calmed down a little and looked closer, noticed the ragged, worn nature of the cloak, the slow sweeping movements of the being before him, and the stench of death filling the corridor, and fear of an entirely different kind filled him. This wasn't Voldemort, it was a Dementor.

Assaulted by another blast of that painful memory, Draco was recoiling even before the Dementor shot towards him, in agony before it picked him up as though he were weightless and slammed him brutally against the wall, pinning him there to struggle against both it and his past. Draco fought against the creature's cast-iron grip around his throat, gasping for breath and thrashing desperately, but it was futile, a useless effort he knew, because he had never learnt the spell to drive off a Dementor, and more memories were attacking him now, more terrors. That last goodbye to Ivy in the Astronomy classroom, the time he had been forced to watch, unable to do a single thing, as Voldemort tortured her to within an inch of her life, the brutal jealousy her love for Potter caused him, and so many other cruel remembrances were rushing though his head, making it difficult to see why he even fought at all. There wasn't any point, no one would really morn his death, he'd been nothing but a trouble and a disappointment to everyone. What was the point?

**Ivy**

The lungful of air I took to propel myself forwards, was as painful as though I had inhaled a handful of drawing pins, it shot down my throat, ripping at my oesophagus, tearing at my lungs and heart. Sprinting across the Entrance Hall I ran for the Grand Staircase, leaping over rubble and dodging the straggling wounded fighters, my heart racing even faster than I was. Taking another raw breath I grabbed hold of what remained of the shattered banister, the jagged stone cutting into my palm as I used it to push myself up the stairs. Taking quick, reaching strides I tripped over the debris littering the steps, sending a torrent of stones tumbling down the stairs but, keeping my balance as I clung to the railing, I took off again immediately, taking the stairs two at a time, blood rushing in my ears and my legs about as stable as jelly. There wasn't a hurdle in the world, not one single obstacle that could stop me now.

Of all the things that might have happened during the battle, all the horrific possibilities, this was the one that I hadn't even considered, that this could happen hadn't even crossed my mind, and why should it have, Draco was a Death Eater after all? To find myself in this situation was surreal, confusing, but I didn't give my response a second thought, there was nothing to consider really, there was only one thing I could do and no time to spare. Frowning deeply, my teeth firmly grit and bared in a visible show of my determination, I skidded onto the first floor landing and used the railing once more to keep my momentum going as I shot up the last flight of stairs. With each step I took the world seemed to shrink around me, with every stair I climbed I found myself focusing more and more on some distant point I couldn't even see yet, my destination. My heart was beat out a drumbeat against my chest and as I jumped the last few stairs I felt it pulling me forwards with its desperate rhythm. I had barely set foot on the landing of the second floor before I was tearing off around the corner and down the corridor, running for all I was worth towards the place where I had seen him. I didn't have long; I knew it, could sense it and was prepared to stake my very life on the fact, though I was actually risking another's. I had to hurry, to run faster, I urged my legs to speed up, though they groaned and ached in protest as I raced down what was a virtually untouched corridor, left alone by the fighters and still in one miraculous piece, except for the suits of armour McGonagall had drafted earlier.

I was halfway down the corridor when the wall of chill hit me like a smack in the face, causing me to almost stumble back before working its way downwards over my body, drawing a shiver from deep in my bones as it crept across my flesh. But still I kept on running, grabbing hold of that happy memory to keep me safe from the Dementor's influence. A summers day last June, the memory of it all was fresh and vivid in my mind, the scent of freshly cut grass and pollen in the air, the sound of that rare companionable laughter echoing in my ears from the one I raced towards. Lost in this world of a bittersweet past nothing could touch me, while I could still feel the chill of the Dementors, it was nowhere near enough to slow me down let alone stop me in my efforts.

Resolve and desperation coursing through me I tightened my grip on the Hawthorn wand and looked up, feeling my heart give a lurch when my gaze landed, for the first time, on what I had been trying to prevent. Stunned by the sight I slowed to a stop beside the iced over grandfather clock, my heartbeat fading and my blood running cold. It had been horrific in my vision, but in reality this was unbearable. Draco's pale white face was tinted blue as the Dementor cut off his air supply with one deadened hand. His own fingers trying to prise the skeletal grip away from his throat, Draco fought for each breath he took, but that was all the fighting he did. In all else Draco seemed to have given up, his legs dangled limply above the ground and his body was still in the Dementor's grip, but most alarming of all, there was a terrifying acceptance in his half-closed expression. I couldn't understand it; his surrender frustrated me and freed me from my numbed state as annoyance hardened my emotions. He wasn't going to protect himself, he had given in, but the proud idiot was in for a shock if he thought this was it, that I would just LET him give up. I wasn't finished with him yet; I thought as the Dementor raised a rotting hand to lower its hood, I wasn't letting him go anywhere. I reacted instinctively.

"Expecto Patronum!" I roared, throwing out my wand arm and training Draco's wand on the creature attacking him, my voice magnified by my passion and the power of my spell heightened by the same. I stood tall and steady in the middle of the corridor, my expression unflinching but my hand quivering as much as my heart as my silver Patronus burst from my wand.

**Draco**

Stars. Draco Malfoy could see blindingly white stars bursting before his eyes as the world around him faded away, spluttering his attempt at a breath the boy looked up at these beautiful hallucinations rather than Death, standing hooded before him. His lungs were ablaze, burning away inside of him as the hand around his throat stopped them getting their much needed air, but Draco did his best to ignore this, not wanting to spend his last moments thinking about that. For once in his life he wanted to be brave, to hang here, seconds away from the end, and not to cry and scream, not that he could draw breath to scream, but to face what was to come with dignity. It was difficult though, which was why Draco was focusing on the stars, dying hurt, so much more than any physical pain Draco had experienced before, and hysteria was rising inside of him rapidly. He didn't want to go, he was too young and there was so much he hadn't had the chance to do yet, it wasn't supposed to be like this anyway, Voldemort was supposed to be the one to kill him, he hadn't even had the chance to stand up to him properly yet. Draco had though he had accepted death, he had felt that way earlier, but right now Draco knew the very idea was lunacy. He was seventeen, a month away from his next birthday, this was no age to die, he was too young, it wasn't fair, wasn't right! But he didn't have the energy to fight any more, the Dementor knew what it was doing, the lack of oxygen was already starting to weaken Draco, to shut down his faculties, and it was all Draco could do to scratch at the creature's hands, because all he felt like doing was going to sleep. Draco wouldn't let himself though, he knew how this went, knew that to sleep would be the very worst thing that he could do and he refused to do it, but still, he felt so tired, and he had been fighting so hard for so long, he just wanted to rest.

Draco saw the Dementor start to lower its hood out of the corner of his eyes, and even in his drowsy state Draco wasn't about to look at it now, keeping his eyes fixed on the stars, expanding dizzyingly above his head, he used them to keep himself grounded and his attention away from the creature that held him. Making one last ragged attempt to draw breath Draco pulled his neck up, desperately trying to turn away from the Dementor, and watched as the world swam before his eyes as the most beautiful sound in the world reached him through the fog.

"Expecto Patronum!" a wonderfully familiar voice yelled and Draco recognised it instantly, even in his slipping state, he welcomed the sound of it, even though he couldn't understand why he had heard it. Ivy.

Abruptly Draco was shocked from the slither of peace that sound had provided him with, as something with the force of a speeding train collided with the Dementor, knocking Draco's head back against the wall as the vicelike grip around his throat suddenly vanished and Draco fell to the floor. Colliding with the stone with a thud that jarred his whole body Draco was gasping for breath before he could so much as groan, hands slamming on the floor to keep him from collapsing on the flagstones Draco was choking on the sudden rush of air as he looked up the corridor and his gaze landed on the most welcome but surprising sight. Ivy stood there, bathed in silvery light as she lowered her wand and watched something over Draco's head, looking every inch the avenging angel with her sooty face, ragged clothes and blooded cuts. Never was there a sight more lovely to the enamoured blond, if he had been of the disposition he might have thought himself in heaven, but as it stood even in a state of half delirium Draco wasn't the sort to think in fairy tales, and so he knew he must still be living to be subjected to such a vision. It was Ivy, she had saved him.

Draco's heart soared with that realisation, even as a part of him knew this might not be a good thing, that Ivy still hadn't forgiven him. Sitting up Draco couldn't breathe again, his swelling heart constricting his oesophagus and making it impossible, but he didn't care, he couldn't, he felt such an incredible lightness just at the sight of her. He was still sating at Ivy like this, in awed disbelief, as a streak of silver shot down the corridor towards her, reflexively Draco's mind flew to finding his fallen wand even as he tried to pull himself to his feet, terrified that the light was a spell. But he ended his attempts when the light slowed down, and veering sharply to the left shot forwards the circle Ivy almost fondly. It wasn't the unusual show of affection on the part of her Patronus that caught and held his attention though; Draco felt his eyes widened as the misty shape finally slowed long enough for Draco to see it, to recognise its form. No, Draco thought, unable to believe what he was seeing, unwilling to consider it, surely it couldn't be. The Patronus came to a stop then, hovering beside Ivy's head it nosed her unmarred cheek tenderly, drawing a weak smile from the stubborn brunette, until her eyes shot suddenly wide and, faster than Draco could blink let alone react, Ivy crumpled to the floor, sending Draco's heart plummeting with her, and the silver ferret Patronus evaporated.

**Ivy**

I don't think. I never had and I never will, I just act without any consideration for the consequences, and it was catching up with me. How could I be such an idiot, it was ridiculous that I was even here now, that I had reacted so avidly to my vision; that this had felt like the only choice at the time was no excuse, I should have known better. If I'd have stayed where I was I wouldn't have put myself in this position, wouldn't have risked this kind of agony, it was a road I had travelled a lot over the past few years and one I had sworn I would never go down again, but here I was. Outwardly I showed no reaction as my ferret Patronus shot across the room, I watched it shoot towards the Dementor like a speeding bullet, colliding with the ghostly being and ramming it away from Draco, who fell to the floor and out of my line of sight. I didn't look at him, I couldn't bring myself to, but I could feel the weight of his gaze upon me, sense his attention, and a traitorous thrill of warmth shot through me even as my blood chilled at what I had done. There was no taking this back now, no changing what I had just done, I should have just left this well enough alone, now he would know. How was I going to explain this away? I wouldn't be able to, I knew that full well, I should have stayed with my friends and just dealt with the consequences. But you saved him, the words echoed from that closed off part of my heart I dared not even think of, he's still alive, yes, I agreed somewhat savagely, but I might just have to kill him now because of what he had seen.

Hating this I lowered my wand, and unable to deny the urge any longer my gaze flicked quickly to Draco and then back to my Patronus as banished the Dementor. Draco hadn't turned away from me, I could see that he was still watching but knew it was too much to hope that he hadn't seen, that my Patronus had passed by his notice, it had been the thing to save him after all. Wanting to growl and rake my hand through my hair and the injustice and humiliation of this, I refrained but scowled deeply, unable to believe I had been so stupid as to forget. He had to know what this meant, he had to, Draco was vain like that, the Patronus could have been something as random as a llama and he would have attributed it to himself, and now he would actually think that I had feelings for him, not that this was something I couldn't change. The very most that I could hope for was that it disappeared before Draco saw it again, or that he was dense enough not to connect the dots, personally I didn't hold out much hope for either as the latter was just wishful thinking and the former was proved impossible. The Dementor gone my little ferret scampered excitedly through the air before it spotted me, standing a good distance away, and then, quick as a shot, it zipped through the air towards me, spiralling around me before it came to a stop right next to my head. Sniffing audibly in my ear the spectral rodent pressed its nose against my skin in a way that I begrudgingly admitted was sweet, drawing a smile to my lips in spite of everything. It, was glad to see me at least.

Draco was watching, I didn't need to look or to be as attuned to him as I was to know that, it was obvious, what else was he going to do, and now it was only a matter of time before he put two and two together and came up with his own twisted version of four, the reality of the situation but not the truth. Yes my Patronus was a ferret, I thought, keeping my gaze pointedly away from the boy collapsed on the floor, and that was because of Draco, but it wasn't because I loved him or even liked the guy, it was because he had hurt and betrayed me, this was my soul's reaction to what he had done to me last year, nothing more. The desire to turn pulled at me as I stood there, my gaze fixed upon the silvery ferret rather than the real one in front of me. The need I felt to look at him was as intense as it was unwelcome, but I wasn't the same girl I was last year, and I certainly wasn't going to make the same mistakes, I would ignore him whatever it took. It hurt, there was no saying that it didn't, to disregard him after I had been so worried, after I had ran all the way up here to save him it was more than difficult, it was almost impossible, it took every ounce of my willpower but it was energy well spent. Or so it had seemed. My every sense, every bit of strength, was focused on distancing myself from the blond who was just out of my reach, just like he had always been, the one thing on this Earth that could be my downfall, truly and completely. And lost completely within the need to protect myself I was completely unprepared for what came next. There was no warning, no telling symptoms, this vision hit me like a gun shot, shocking my system and actually pulling a gasp from my lips as I arched my back against the jolt, feeling it rebound off every single nerve, every sensor, and stunning me completely. There was nothing else, no dizziness or sickness, only the sensation of my legs giving way beneath me as I fell and the slightest hint of an otherworldly breeze across my brain as the darkness rose up to meet me.

My vision was violent, a shocking flash of blinding light, there was no numb blackness to ease me into the future, as soon as my eyes had closed they were open again, wide and defined, taking in every little detail as I gazed out into this new scene. Neville, a crowd of furious Hogwartians standing defiantly behind him, stood bold and firm before an unseen enemy, his expression one of deep, disgusted hatred and his busted lips curled in revulsion. But before I could do anything else, before I could reach out and try and see who it was Neville faced, this scene was snatched away from me, roughly, leaving my mind reeling from the shock, and with the transition of another blinding white flash, replaced by another. I was running, panting heavily as I raced up a spiralling staircase, determination powering my exhausted steps and feeling the pull of what I sought, which was tantalisingly close as I reached the landing of the headmasters office. However once more what I was seeing was pulled away from me, yanked out of sight before I could see any more, and with another brilliant flash a new scene exploded before my Inner Eye. It lasted barely a second, and was nothing more than disjoined images, but I saw what I needed to, I watched as Neville pulled a long, ruby encrusted sword from inside a hat, the Sorting Hat, and then the vision jumped forwards in time, I felt the movement and watched as Neville swung the sword, severing the head of the great snake Nagimi. One of Voldemort's Horcruxes. The scene was once again ripped away then, and though I desperately wanted to hold onto it, I had no say in the matter and with the brightest flash yet another scene played out before my eyes, I was still running but I had made it into the headmasters office, and I watched from my own eyes as I raced across the room towards a small glass cabinet, one which housed the slumping Sorting Hat. I felt a thrill of anticipation rush through me as I paused at the sight of it, before I took off again, running towards the hat, my hand outstretched.

I landed back in the present with such shocking finality that I actually cringed at the imagined impact. Taking a gasping breath, as though I had just surfaced from underwater, my eyes shot wide and I could only stare up at the ceiling as I spluttered my breaths and tried to calm my thundering heart. Though my body was recovering my brain had no such luxury, the gravity of what I had seen was buzzing through my head and a sense of duty and fear descended upon me as I thought over the vision. It was Neville; he was the one who would kill Nagimi, that was what I had been shown and why the others hadn't succeeded yet, because it was supposed to be him. Unease trickled through me steadily, even though that thought should have been a relief, it wasn't going to be as easy as that, I was still connected enough with my Second Sight to sense as much, and nothing was ever simple anyway. In order to kill Nagimi Neville would need to sword of Gryffindor which he would acquire through the Sorting Hat, my vision had made that quite plain, however, how was he going to pull that sword from the hat if it was trapped in a box in Snape's office? The answer to that was simple, he wouldn't, not if I didn't do something, and fast. I had no idea when Neville would confront the mammoth snake, but I would make sure he had what he needed for when he did. With that decision I felt myself begin to settle, my heart slowed is rapid pace in my chest and my breathing evened somewhat, but more than that I came all the way back down to Earth, leaving my thoughts behind for now I felt the warm presence of hands on me, one resting against the side of my head and the other on my arm, and realised that I wasn't laying on the floor.

Panicking I shifted in the oddly soothing grip, a sentiment that vanished the second the hands tightened on me and I looked up. My heart, just recovering from the strain my vision put my body under, damn near stopped in my chest at the sight that greeted me. I lay there, completely stunned on Draco's lap, looking up into his tightly pinched face, his stone-like gaze flickering over me almost franticly and his lips pressed into a tight line. Breathless I could do nothing but stare at him, taking him in and trying to get over what an impressive sight he made, completely mesmerised by his presence because of and in spite of my refusal to look at him earlier. There really was something about him, I thought mindlessly, something I couldn't quite put my finger on that drew me to him like a moth to a flame, something captivating that radiated from within that was simply irresistible. Horrified I stopped my thoughts right there, and shot upright so quickly that Draco had to lean back to avoid a head-butt.

"Let go of me," I said, my voice irritatingly husky as quickly moved to get away from him, pulling myself from his grip and stumbling to my feet before he could do anything to stop me. I had to go, and not just because of Neville, I had to put some distance between myself and him or I was likely to do something stupid.

"Ivy-" Draco started to say, his voice a plea as he followed me with his gaze, I turned my back on him, not wanting to see the lies in his expression, at least the last time I had been under the illusion, this time I saw right through it.

"Don't," I said quickly, cutting him off, "don't say anything, I saved your life, the very least you owe me is that you leave me alone." I snapped, balling my hands into fists and suddenly very aware of the absence of my wand, damn, I must have dropped it when I had my vision and had left it on the floor beside Draco.

I felt him getting up behind me, could practically sense his hot breath on my neck and his frustration before I even heard his voice, "I'm not leaving," Draco said, his voice as firm as mine had been, "you fainted-"

"It was just a vision!" I exclaimed, shooting my words over my shoulder and hardly able to bear the false concern in his voice, I wanted him gone, and I wanted that now. "You needn't concern yourself."

"When it concerns you it concerns me," Draco said with a quiet but insistent vehemence, I turned at his words, my arms folded across my chest and my expression hard as what he said resounded within me.

"That time has passed don't you think?" I asked, my voice merciless and scathing but I couldn't have cared less, "you don't need to pretend you're my friend to get information from me anymore, so what happens to me is nothing to do with you, unless your master still needs me alive so he can torture secrets from me?"

"Ivy, I-" he started, his blue eyes seeming wide and sincere but I wouldn't allow myself to think on that, there wasn't an honest bone in his body, I'd been completely under his spell once and I wasn't going back there.

"I said don't!" I injected, cutting his short and turning to look away from him, unable to stand the expression he wore and what it was almost doing to me. Why had I done this? I should have just left him and spared myself the heartache.

"Will you let me finish?" Draco exclaimed, losing his composure and hearing his annoyance I looked up at him, determined to drive him away with how difficult I really could be.

"No," I virtually hissed, though I had been going for an air of cold indifference which I somehow managed to adopt when I next spoke, "if I remember rightly I've said this to you once before," Draco made a move to interrupt me there but raising my voice I spoke over anything he might have said, "but, since you've got such a bad memory I will repeat it, there is nothing you can say to me that I want to hear." I told him, feeling the lack of the necessary emotions to back up my words even as I spoke them so convincingly. Now look who's lying, the haunting thought drifted through my mind but I shook it off.

Draco balked, his mask of barely restrained frustration slipping to reveal a deeper hurt I chose to ignore, it wasn't real. Unable to stand being here a second longer, and fighting the barrage of emotions assaulting me that ranged from fury at his audacity, to hurt at what he had done to me, to a deep and terrifying relief that he was okay. Seething and trying to ignore the softer emotions trying to sway me from my anger, I wrapped my arms tightly around my body, spotted my wand laying on the floor behind Draco and being careful not to come remotely close to touching him, walked around the angry blond. Of course, this didn't work. Draco's touch, as his hand shot out and grabbed my arm, sent sizzling waves of something I wasn't going to even entertain naming through me as he pulled my arm away from my chest and turned me to look at him. I gave him a repugnant stare despite the way his torch flared in my heart.

"You would think after a year our meetings would follow a different path," I snapped as I tried to wretch my arm from his grip but Draco refused to relinquish his hold on me. I ought not to have been surprised, he never had, not even after all this time.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice as tight as his grip.

"To pick up my wand and get the heck away from here," I answered with partial honesty, as I tried and failed again to try and throw him off.

"Why, there's a ceasefire, there's nowhere for you to go but back down to the hall? What did you See, Ivy? I know that look, there's something wrong." He insisted, his ice blue gaze hard and unrelenting as he stared down at me, but I wasn't the type to flinch under it.

"You don't know me as well as you think, Malfoy," I snapped, having enough of this now, "there's nothing wrong. And I will only warn you once," I hissed, tilting my chin back so that I was looking him right in the eyes, "if you plan on tricking some poor cow into having kids with you in the future, I recommend you let go of me."

Draco ignored my comment, disregarding it, a fact which annoyed me greatly, but since I didn't have my wand and racking him would involve actually touching him my threat was an empty one…for now. "You can tell me, Ivy, I want to help you." Draco insisted and scoffing I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, all right then, next joke please." I sneered, going to walk away from him but with his hand still on my arm he gently pulled me back.

"I mean it," he said in a voice so determined, so genuine sounding, that I might have believed him, had I not been a fool once before, "it's not good to be walking around here alone, you'll get yourself killed."

Taking great offense at that I didn't hesitate to snap back my response, "No, I don't think I will, as you so helpfully reminded me there is a ceasefire right now, and the way I see it you're the only threat around here, Death Eater."

Draco's eyes narrowed at that, and for the first time since I had stupidly rushed the save him, there was a flicker of true rage in his eyes, "Don't call me that," he told me in a deep, furious tone that didn't do a single thing to intimidate me, it only made my snort and look away, "I'm not one of them."

"Oh, well then, I must have been pissed off with a different Draco all this year, sorry, my mistake," I snapped bitingly and I watched with a distressingly low amount of satisfaction as the muscle on Draco's temple twitched, too angry and hurt to take pleasure in frustrating him.

"You are impossible at times!" Draco exclaimed, clearly losing control, "I'm trying to help you and your acting like this!"

"I wonder why that is?" I asked with heavy sarcasm, "might it have something to do with the fact that you lied to me, used me, endangered the people that I care about and joined Voldemort!"

"If you would let me explain-" Draco insisted but I wouldn't hear it.

"What is there to possibly explain? You thought that what you stood to gain from helping that monster was more important than our friendship, that's all that matters." I yelled, coming to the shocking realisation that I was starting to get hysterical, and frightened that I had given too much of my feelings away, hinted to obviously at the hurt he had caused me, I shut my mouth and folded my arms across my chest. Mercifully, Draco released me as soon as I stopped talking to wheel around and rake his hands through his hair in frustration, growling all the time before suddenly slumping with his back to me and muttering something that I couldn't hear.

Watching him for a moment, as the once proud boy, now a cracked version of what he once was, stood there, his clothes singed and tatted, his skin covered with soot, and his shoulders slumped in what was almost defeat. Taken slightly aback by this my expression was lightly wary as I slowly bent down to retrieve my wand, I couldn't stand here and argue any longer, time was of the essence and Neville needed the Sorting Hat free if he was going to kill Nagimi. But it was with a faint and strange reluctance that I rose to my feet and went to leave.

"I can help you, you know," Draco said turning back to face me and having apparently controlled whatever had bothered him so before, he now looked just as deathly serious and resolute as he had before.

"No you can't," I said, my voice calm but firm, "you never help anyone but yourself, and there's too much at stake here for me to risk your backstabbing."

"Let me prove it to you," he said, taking a purposeful step towards me and drawing his own wand in such a way that I had to stop myself from moving to defend myself, "you'll never believe a word I say, I know, you're too stubborn to, but let me show you."

"We've been here before," I told him, my tone unflinching and sure, "I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice." Draco opened his mouth as he took a step forwards, as though he was going to argue, but I didn't have the time to listen to anything else from him, I'd wasted enough time already. "Don't bother, I'm go-" my words were cut off by a gasp, the sheer force of the shock running through me forcing it from me and pulling my back up straight and my eyes wide. The world around me faded away, taking Draco and my concerns with it, rushing back and leaving only darkness as, with a jolt just as brutal as the one that had brought me here, a new scene exploded before my Inner Eye.

A battle cry was the very first thing to reach me, so impassioned and powerful that it carried across the timelines towards me before my sight could even conjure a picture. I recognised the voice instantly, but not the noise it made, this person never made such a sound, they were usually much more quiet and reserved, but like everyone else these vicious times had changed them. The outraged noise rang in my ears as my vision threw me into the future, pulling up the scene before me and landing me once more in the same rebellious crowd as before. My gaze found Neville immediately, and a wave of terrified shock went through me as I watched him charge towards Voldemort, the mysterious opponent from before, only to be thrown back with a single, demeaning wave of the vile creature's wand. Heart constricting, my breath caught in my throat as I watched Neville be thrown across the grounds and collide roughly with the muddy earth. With his impact a jolt of my own ran through me, causing me to yelp in shock as I was suddenly pulled from this place, and catapulted back to the present.

Gasping for breath I was bent over double when I came back to, only still standing because of a pair of strong hands holding me upright, pressing my palms against my knees I gulped down desperate breaths as I thought about what I had seen. The prompt wasn't lost on me, I could take a hint, my Inner Eye was telling me that I didn't have long to free the hat, it was urging me to get a move on. "I need to get to the office," I rasped, hardly even aware of what I was saying.

"The headmaster's office?" a voice above me asked and I felt my heart drop, crap, I thought, closing my eyes, just bloody brilliant.

"No," I said, trying to bring myself up right but struggling, the quick succession of my visions had took a lot out of me and my knees buckled when I tried to stand properly, and was it not for Draco's arms around me, which tightened the instant he felt me start to stagger, I would have been on the floor. Acknowledging that, even in my mind, killed me.

"You're a terrible liar, Ivy, I can always see right through you," Draco commented dryly and irritated I grit my teeth. I didn't have the time for this.

"I can get you in," Draco told me, tightening his hold around my back and on my arm as he helped me to stand upright, a deep conviction in his voice but despite that I still didn't trust him. He hadn't given me any reason to. "I know the password; I was there just this morning."

Chest heaving as I still fought to control my breathing and shook up by the sudden urgency I felt and what I had just seen, a spiteful no was on the edge of my lips but something stopped me, pulling me up short and making me reconsider. I didn't want Draco around me, every second in his presence made me feel unsure of myself, gave me doubts I really didn't need as I wondered how much of what he said and did was genuine and what was a lie to get him what he wanted, he unsettled me. But I didn't have the time to argue with him either, this was life or death, I could feel it in my bones, this had to happen and I couldn't let anything stop it, not even my own feelings.

"Fine," I agreed, scraping my hair back from my damp forehead with one violent movement before standing upright, forcing myself to do so, and taking a step away from the man who had supported me. Draco looked shocked, clearly having expected me to put up a fight, to refuse his help and make a scene, but I wasn't going to do that, I had changed since the time when he had known me; I wasn't the same girl any more. "This is bigger than us, Draco," I told him in a firm, unflinching voice, "it always was. My personal feelings have no place here, I'll do what needs to be done to stop him, and if that means working with you then so be it." I said, a cold power to my voice that didn't coincide with my true emotions, but that didn't matter now.

"But," I said, a threat chillingly evident in my voice as I took one purposeful step towards him and gripped hold of his collar, pulling it tightly, "betray me again and I'll finish what that Dementor started." I hissed before releasing the stunned Death Eater and taking a step back.

"I won't make the same mistake twice," Draco told me, repeating my own words as he stood up a little taller, unfazed by my threat and straightened his clothes.

Eyeing him, not entirely sure of what to make of this, I straightened up to my full height as well, feeling the need to keep pace with him and to not let him dominate, though to be honest dominant was the last thing Draco looked. What am I doing? I asked myself, half exasperated half disgusted as I watched warily while Draco turned to face sideways, the direction we would have to go to reach the Headmasters Office. "Isn't this supposed to be urgent?" he asked me when I didn't move, raising a pale eyebrow at my quizzically.

Scowling at him I turned and started off down the corridor without him, "Don't get sarci with me." I muttered, holding my head high as picking up my speed as Draco hurried along beside me, partly out of my desperation to help Neville, and partly because I wanted to mess with my unwanted companion. He kept my pace easily though, I blamed it on his unnaturally long legs, suddenly very aware of his presence beside me, feeling him with every sense I possessed, I made sure to keep my eyes straight ahead and my mind fixed firmly on what I had to do. But he was THERE, right beside me, so close that I felt the charge off his skin, could hear his slightly laboured breath from when the Dementor had attacked him, and could smell the scent of his sharp clean aftershave, it played havoc with me. Merlin help me, I was going to regret this big time.

**Author note: Honestly, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, it was so good to have these two having an actual conversation *cough* Argument *cough*, and I hope you guys enjoyed it too. Right, this chapter is kind of a present today, for both myself and for you all because it's my birthday, which is why I really wanted to update :) It's good that I can have this chapter up today as I've been looking forward to it ever since I ended 'Seeing'.**

**Anonymous reviews:**

**Callie C: Thank you, I know, I know, I'm terribly cruel with my endings, hopefully I create some suspense. Aww, thank you, I'm glad you liked that line it was a particular favourite of mine.**


	37. The Courage

**Chapter thirty-seven: The courage**

**'Whatever is done for love always occurs beyond good and evil.' - Friedrich Nietzsche**

**Harry**

Harry felt as though he had been spun around mercilessly, as though the world had suddenly and brutally just upended right in front of his very nose and everything he had ever thought or believed about the past was wrong. Nothing was the same anymore, but oddly everything seemed to fit into place perfectly. Harry might not like his new perspective on life, it might have unsettled him, but he couldn't deny that it all made sense. No wonder Snape had always hated him. Harry could understand that now, for the very first time it was all clear to him. Disorientated and more than a little bit uncomfortable, Harry watched as the world around him reformed, and surprisingly the room that blossomed around him was almost identical to the one that had come before. The tall stone walls, covered in colourful, dozing portraits of previous headmasters, grew around him, tables and cabinets of glimmering, interesting and mostly unidentifiable objects appeared and ahead of Harry an elegant desk, covered in just as fascinating and peculiar items as every other surface, materialised into being, an empty birds perch shooting up beside it. It was the Headmaster's Office, when Dumbledore had still been alive, and exactly where Harry had been only seconds before. The same two people were in the room again, alone, but it was immediately clear to Harry that some time had passed, however, what it took him a moment to realise, was that a different topic of conversation was under discussion.

"I believe that our young friend is distancing himself from her," Dumbledore said as Harry took a step closer to better hear their conversation, as Dumbledore was once again sitting behind his desk, sounding thoughtful as he sat back in his chair, "is that correct?"

"Yes," Snape replied, with some satisfaction, "when I followed him to try and talk some sense into the fool hardy boy we came upon her, she tried to get his attention but he carried on walking and said not a word to her." Snape relayed and Dumbledore nodded at this news, as though this was of great significance. Harry was confused, as this seemed to have nothing to do with what Snape and Dumbledore had been disusing before, Snape's relationship with Harry's mum and how that affected Harry, but it was clear they were talking about someone else here.

"It makes sense that he would," Dumbledore said ambiguously and Snape looked on at the older wizard in bewilderment, clearly not understanding what he meant by that, but frustrated by the other man's somewhat optimistic tone.

"I was right," Snape said firmly, as though daring Dumbledore to disagree with him, "he cannot possibly love her, otherwise why would he distance himself?"

"Surely Severus, you of all people can understand that." Dumbledore said knowingly, and Harry caught a faint spark of connection then, a hint of what made this relevant, but it soon faded and he didn't manage to understand it just yet, "Could it not simply be that he is protecting himself and her by avoiding her, that the young boy is frightened by his own emotions and the position he is now in?" Dumbledore asked, sounding perfectly innocent, but Snape didn't look impressed by this statement, Harry noticed, watching the Head of Slytherin's frown deepen and his hands flex into fists.

"I can see the similarities without you constantly pointing them out." He said somewhat harshly, "but if you insist that Malfoy loves the Jones girl then I will have to say that I think she does not return his feelings. And why would she, her friend Potter hates him and the pair of them have argued the entire time they have known one and other. That he loves the girl makes this no better, if that is true then I have to watch as she breaks his heart, as she surely will." Stunned Harry looked between the two wizards, unable to believe what they were saying, that they were actually talking about this, about Ivy and Malfoy. It confused him and made him defensive of his hurt friend, who had been so badly wounded by the very boy they were discussing, and suddenly he was wary of what significance this would have.

"Ivy is headstrong and very deeply in denial, but you cannot argue that she doesn't return Draco's feelings Severus. You said that she tried to get his attention when you saw her today, why would she do that if she scorned him? No, their feelings towards each other have not changed. All is as it should be." Dumbledore said with confidence, one that didn't waver in the slightest as Harry, suspicious about this turn of conversation, noticed that Snape looked less than pleased by the then Headmaster's words.

"And why is that?" Snape asked irately, fast losing any patience he had left, this, Harry summarised, was as touchy a subject as the other one had been, if Snape's reaction was anything to go by, though at that moment Harry didn't know why that would be. "You avoided the question the last time I asked, why is it so important that the two of them maintain these…feelings?" Snape asked, sneering the last word as though it were repulsive to him.

"I did not avoid the question last time, Severus," Dumbledore said reasonably, "if you remember rightly we were interrupted, I have merely been waiting for you to ask me again. However in answer to your question, the reason you ask for is nothing more or less vital than their own happiness, their relationship may very well be their salvation."

"I am not naïve enough to believe that, Dumbledore. You forget I know you, you never do anything without at least fifty far reaching reasons behind it, you always have a design for everything, what is the true reason you encourage this?" Snape asked abruptly and Harry, seriously doubting his old mentor's words anyway, that Malfoy could do anything at all to help Ivy or make her happy, turned to look at Dumbledore expectantly, wanting an answer as much as Snape.

"I have not encouraged anything, Severus," Dumbledore said, causing Snape to pull a face that looked to Harry like he desperately wanted to groan in frustration, "I have merely prevented your interference in the natural formation of their relationship. I have no hand in this, the bonds Ivy and Draco have formed are purely of their own doing, but I do not pretend that they are not advantageous. As I said before, it will be their salvation. Their love for one and other will ensure that, no matter what, they will both make it out of this war. For neither one will sit back and allow the other to die."

"You cannot honestly believe that," Snape said, as though Dumbledore was being ridiculous, "by your own admission you said that Jones was headstrong, when she finds out that Draco is a Death Eater she will hate him, no matter what you believe she feels for him now. The hot-headed child will kill him herself and save anyone else the trouble."

"I have faith in her forgiveness," Dumbledore said simply, while both Snape and the watching Harry looked at him as though he were crazy, for neither one believed his words, "Ivy is not a cruel person, if she knows that Draco is in danger she will not forsake him, regardless of what he has done in the past."

"So you would put Draco's life in her hands, even though she is intolerant and impulsive?" Snape asked, his voice almost a challenge.

"Their lives are in their own hands, and those of the people who would protect them. All will be well." Dumbledore said with confidence, and Harry was reminded of what Dumbledore and Malfoy had said on the Astronomy Tower the night of Dumbledore's murder, of what was said about Ivy, and he wondered, somewhat cautiously, if the older wizard might be right. Snape however, showed no signs of wavering.

"But that's not it, is it, there is another reason why I must suffer through this isn't there? Surely this isn't all there is to this, it's far too simple for you Dumbledore and it doesn't affect Potter at all, I was under the impression the world must rotate around the boy." Snape bit out, not convinced in the least while Harry was still starting to sway, he remembered how Malfoy had looked in the Room of Requirement tonight, how he had reacted to Ivy and was reminded a little of how he had been with Ginny before they had gotten together, obviously without the animosity on her part.

"In a way you are right, Severus," Dumbledore admitted, much to Harry's surprise and distaste, "though I do not agree with the way you worded it, the world does not revolve around Harry and to say so, if you don't mind me saying, is just a touch spiteful. However, I concede that there is another reason that I am glad of Ivy and Draco's affections for each other."

"What reason?" Snape asked quickly and Dumbledore, looking every inch the educator he was, shook his head reproachfully at his companion's eagerness.

"Patience, Severus, I will explain all," Dumbledore said and there was no mistaking how very much Snape didn't appreciate that comment, "my final reason for approving of their relationship does indeed have to do with Harry." Shocked by this Harry honestly couldn't see how, standing up a little straighter the dark haired boy had wide eyes as he waited for Dumbledore to expand upon his words, abandoning the unsavoury task of trying to analyse the relationship between his friend and his enemy. "Ivy and her visions are of the up most importance to Harry's survival, and to the success of their mission. Without her, Harry cannot hope to do what he needs to, and without Draco's love Ivy will never be able to evade the Death Eaters. Voldemort knows of Ivy and her powers, and now that he does he will never allow Harry to have such an advantage, he will seek to use her abilities for himself."

"So that's what this is all about?" Snape asked, finding himself somewhere between satisfied to have discovered the truth and annoyed by what he was hearing, meanwhile Harry's head was reeling, Ivy had gone through what she had just so she could protect him? The idea was horrific to him. "History repeats its self once more, but now it is only so that Potter keeps his bodyguard and the Dark Lord is robbed of an advantage?" Snape asked, sounding in that instant as though he were more frustrated than his cold expression let on, Harry, pulling himself away from his guilt-ridden thoughts looked over at Dumbledore, hardly able to believe this. Until the two of them, both the furious servant and the invisible hero, heard these imperative words from the wise man's mouth, that silenced even them.

"And for their own happiness, Severus, never forget that."

**Draco**

Draco had never been especially intuitive, he never knew when to stop or when a line had been crossed, never knew when his taunting had gone too far or when someone was about to lash out at him. For the most part he never expected people to treat him such, and so it all came as a surprise to him when they did, allowing others to take advantage in certain situations and often landing him with a spell to the gut or as a newly transfigured rodent. However, while most things went past Draco, he would have had to be completely oblivious to miss the disdain rolling off the girl walking beside him in waves. Ivy was literally fuming with rage; even across the strict, ridged distance she put between them her animosity filled the air around her, as clear a sign of her mood as her tightly clenched hands and deep scowl. It struck Draco that it might have been wiser to wait behind, to let her go alone and spare himself the hostility and threat of attack at any moment, but he made no move to stop, nor to suggest she carry on by herself. Draco wasn't stupid, just a fool in love, and he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by, he had a golden chance here, to go with her and slowly bring her back around to him, to make amends for what he had done last year, and it was easier to make sure that she was safe if he was right beside her. So, despite the clear and very real danger the furious girl beside him posed, Draco kept close to her and carried on.

"Hurry up," she snapped, giving him a loathsome sideways glance but making sure not to look him in the eyes, before picking up the speed of her jog and racing ahead of him, so that a stunned but not at all surprised Draco had to run to keep up with her, "there are lives at risk here." She added and she didn't need to voice her next threat, that it would be his life in danger if they didn't get to the hat in time, for both of them to hear it.

Sighing Draco matched her fast and somewhat frantic pace, and found himself turning to look at her as they rushed up the staircases towards the Headmasters Office. There she was, the same war-torn vision as before, clothes ripped and singed, skin cut and bruised, hair a mess. She was still the same stubborn girl that he had always known too, but there was something different about her now, something hard and sharp that she had only ever hinted at before, a deep rooted hurt that Draco couldn't stand. His insides twisted as he looked at her clenched, trembling hands, wrapped tightly around a familiar wand, and he wondered if he had done this to her. Draco cringed at the thought, dodging it both mentally and physically he looked away from the girl whose presence he had been craving all year, ignored the need to turn back to her and walk that little bit closer, and stared over the edge of the railing into the quiet Entrance Hall bellow as the two of them raced up the stairs. The castle was in morning, a heavy cloud hung over the place, one with such potency that as with Ivy's fury he would have to be completely ignorant not to feel it. The inhabitants and defenders of Hogwarts castle were tired and beaten; he could see them, huddled together through the open doors to the Great Hall, seeking comfort in the time they had with each other, trying to tend their wounds and cling to what little hope they had left. In spite of everything, his poor experience here this past year, his isolation and complete and utter lack of any sense loyalty towards the school, he felt bad for them, felt some of their pain as they grieved the loss of their loved ones and fought for the courage to carry on themselves. On a level different to theirs, he could relate. However, this sympathy didn't weigh Draco down for long, he soon turned back to face the way he was going, spotting an impatient and aggravated Ivy several steps ahead of him moving at an ever increasing speed as she desperately tried to put distance between them, and frustration at his own situation hit him again. Frowning he hurried after her, not about to be deterred by her efforts, and thinking to himself that brooding over their misery wouldn't help the people downstairs, but freeing the Sorting Hat might, though Draco couldn't begin to understand why and Ivy wasn't about to explain.

"Would you just slow down?" Draco half puffed, half growled as he rushed after Ivy, who was practically bounding up the stairs.

Not slowing at all Ivy cast a scathing glance over her shoulder as she said in a nonchalant tone, "Why? That would defeat the whole object." Before turning away again, biting her lip and pulling the most peculiarly strained expression as she did, however, while Draco noticed this he thought nothing of the motion.

"You need me to get into the office, Ivy," He told her sternly, trying to get her to admit that she needed him too, however this time she didn't even turn as she gave her response.

"Unfortunately," Muttered Ivy, though she made no attempt to hide her words and Draco wanted to growl in frustration, "So hurry up, or else I'll find a way in on my own." Draco highly doubted that, but knew Ivy well enough not to say anything, especially given their fragile truce, and simply followed behind her as she ran onto the landing, before taking off to the left, in the direction of the Headmasters Office.

"You know," Draco said drolly, trying again as the two of them raced down the devastated corridor, dodging overturned tables and shattered statues, glass crunching beneath their feet, "you really could slow down a little," Draco wheezed as he struggled to keep up with her, wondering if it was her hatred for him or her vision that caused her speed, "the hat isn't going anywhere."

"And that's the problem," she told him, in a voice that was hardly contemptuous at all, giving him pause and telling Draco that whatever she needed the hat for, it was important if she could put aside her hatred long enough to tell him that truth.

Though Draco followed her mostly willingly, it was only then that he realised there was some significance to what they were doing, before he never really had, and could you blame him? What good could the raggedy old Sorting Hat do in this war? None at all as far as Draco could see, he had simply been glad of the opportunity to stay with her and try to get back in her good graces, one that he had readily taken. But there must be a point it this, a reason why Ivy was so desperate to get to the hat, she hadn't told him much about her vision, she still didn't trust him, but she had just said that there were lives in danger, that the liberation of the hat would save them. Draco still couldn't see how, but he supposed that as long as the girl in front of him knew then it didn't matter. Thinking about it, Draco looked up and spotted Ivy throwing a quick look at him over her shoulder, her expression not half so hostile as it had been and her demeanour more open, she saw him looking and quickly turned away scowling, though whether it was at him or at herself was unclear. Watching her as she picked up her speed once more, Draco felt that odd pull in his chest again and supposed that it didn't matter if she didn't know, because he would follow her anyway.

**Ivy**

Why did he have to be here? Couldn't he just leave me alone? I thought franticly, twitching with the urge to turn to look at him but adamant that I wouldn't. Being next to him was so difficult it was almost laughable; it hurt on levels unimaginable, made my cheeks flame with old embarrassment and sent my heart into overdrive. I was trembling, but I didn't know exactly why, I couldn't kid myself and say it was wholly to do with my rage, because I knew that it wasn't. Merlin, it wasn't fair, I thought as I sprinted down the corridor, Draco a good distance behind me but still too close for comfort and too far away for it too. Hadn't the Powers That Be had enough fun torturing me on this account yet? Wasn't throwing me together with Draco and watching us fight getting old yet? Because it was to me, my battered heart was pounding in my chest, the pain of it excruciating, and I wished myself anywhere, anywhere, but here. I'd held out strong so far but I knew me and him, knew how this went, it wouldn't be too long now before I started to waver, started to think that maybe he wasn't all bad, and it was a downwards spiral from there. Because I was right to hate him, right to be annoyed with what he had done to me and to believe that he was evil incarnate. But pretty soon all logic would fly out the window and relying solely on my love-struck emotions I would hand him the wand to curse me with once again. Why did he have to be here? I asked again, fighting the urge to groan and rake my hands through my hair, lest he see the effect he was having on me. Why couldn't he have gone back to his master like all the good little Death Eaters, why did he have to stay here and torture me? You didn't help matters; that annoyingly rational voice in my head intoned; you were the one that ran to him. To save his life! I insisted internally with some desperation, another mistake.

Head held high I did my best to ignore the emotional conflict breaking out inside of me, to resist the ever present draw towards him, the desire just to turn and look at him again. Every part of me responded to him in such terrifying way, and though it just about killed me to do it, I had to admit that I had missed him. In spite of the torment raging through me and how jittery and worked up he made me feel, it felt right to be near him again, to have him back, and I absolutely hated that, it was why I was so desperate to race ahead of him, I was hoping he'd give me up as a bad job and turn back. The old Draco would have done by now, he'd have called me impossible a long time ago and stormed off, however, this Draco seemed a lot more determined, and that frustrated me to no end. Doing my best to pretend that he wasn't there I could have cried out in relief at the sight of the gargoyle statue that guarded the Headmasters Office, if my jaw wasn't so tightly locked that making a sound was impossible. Unlike the majority of the corridor the large stone creature was untouched and unharmed, it stood pristine in its usual position as I slowed to a stop in front of it, momentarily captivated by the sight of it and the memories it sparked, just a year ago I had been coming here so often to send letters to my family in hiding, how could everything have gone downhill so rapidly? And then, the answer to the question stopped, panting by my side, and I tensed, my body reacting instantly and causing me to curl my lip in disgust.

"Password?" the gargoyle asked, and impatient for his part in this to be over I elbowed Draco sharply in the ribs, prompting,

"Come on, you're the one whose supposed to know."

Looking at me sideways, still trying to catch his breath and with his arm wrapped around his waist, presumably against a case of the stitch, Draco had the nerve to look disbelieving before, without taking his eyes off my hard expression, he said, "Dumbledore." And with that the gargoyle sprang aside, revealing the spiralling staircase that would take us up to the office.

Forcing myself to concede the staring match I turned to look at the entrance, feeling surprise and confusion trickle through me, before turning back to Draco, about to ask him about the unsuspected password before I caught myself and settled for just looking questioning. Draco shrugged, "it's just what I heard." He told me, his words and expression saying he knew no more about the reason behind this than I did. Not about to let us stand here and share even a moment of bewilderment, and not wanting to waste another second, I quickly started forwards, taking to the stairs and racing upwards.

I came to a stop on the landing, my breathing slightly strained from all the exertion, both emotionally and physically, my chest rising and falling in time with each ragged breath. Looking across at the wooden door with its brass knocker I felt the most unwelcome sense of déjà vu niggling away at me. Draco's steps, echoing off the stone stairs, only enhanced the connection, as I drifted unwillingly back in time, remembering the last time I had been here with the Slytherin, furious at him for his betrayal, for the danger he had put my family in. You would think that I'd have learned by now. Disconcerted I felt slow turnings in the pit of my stomach and a little light headed, but putting it all down to the unsettling memory, I determinedly stepped towards the door and took hold of the handle, just as Draco skidded onto the landing. He stopped abruptly, I could sense the movement just behind me, though I couldn't tell if he simply wanted to avoid touching me in the small space or if he too was remembering the last time we had been here. I didn't want to contemplate that though, cringing away from the thought I quickly twisted the handle, threw open the door and swept forwards, without a single word to the silent blond behind me.

Striding into the darkened room, its empty, shadowy chill settled around me like a damp blanket, snuffing out my anger under the gravity of the room. Sobering I slowed my pace as I took a tentative step inside, letting my hand trail over the cool wood of the door as I looked out into the sombre room, an air of morning seeming to hang in the space of a place that had seen the death of two headmasters in only a year. Taking another step my fingers found the chain around my neck and I clasped the platinum ring tightly, thinking for the first time, properly, about the man who had just died. He could only have been here a few hours ago, and now he was dead.

The dusky room before me sent a small thrill of surprise through me as I scanned it through the darkness; it wasn't what I was expecting at all. Even in the gloom I could clearly see that Snape had put his stamp on the place, much of the furniture was now more plain and intimidating, more to the old Potions Master's taste, and there were a good number of jars and bowls dotting the room, with creepy creatures squirming in their murky waters, creatures that I couldn't quite make out in the low light spilling from the corridor bellow. Yes, I thought I took in the hard man's possessions; Snape had clearly made his mark here, that didn't surprise me, after becoming headmaster he would surely want to change the office of the man he had killed to gain this position. I had expected that, however, what did shock me was how much of the old room still remained. The office was a bizarre blending of the last headmaster and his predecessor, Snape's jars sat next to Dumbledore's weird and wonderful inventions on the tables, Dumbledore's grand old desk stood before Snape's utilitarian high backed chair, with Snape's books piled high atop it, and the Pensieve glowed a ghostly silver-blue on the far wall, open and shining as though it had just been used. I frowned as I looked at the strange combination before me, unable to understand why it would be so until a cynical explanation crossed my mind and I snorted. Trophies, I thought with disdain as I shook off the odd sense of almost respect that I had been exhibiting for the recently dead man, he had clearly kept them to remind himself, and everyone else too, every day of just what he had done. Trying not to let myself get too wound up by the evils of nasty, lying Slytherin Death Eaters I focused on the task at hand, finding the hat, and rising my wand I muttered,

"Lumos,"

Instantly the room was bathed in the bright white glow, so at odds with its shadowy essence, and lost all of its supposed ethereal qualities, though I had switched myself off to all of that before I had so much as lifted my hand. Going to walk further into the room I stopped suddenly when I felt Draco walk in behind me, his footsteps slow and cautionary. The aura of Snape's office had felt like a wet blanket to me, smothering and heavy, but Draco's presence felt like a warm physical touch, like a hand brushed over my shoulders that sent shivers down my back in an none too unpleasant way. After the spectral feel of the room and thoughts of death, Draco's proximity soothed my discomfort like a balm, standing dangerously close behind me, all he would have to do was take another step and I could be in his arms. My eyelids fluttered and a sigh was on the edge of my lips before I caught myself, making a noise of disgust that he no doubt heard I wrinkled my expression and swept forwards, trying to shake of this ridiculous attraction…infatuation…I didn't know what it was, and searched for the hat. Hurrying forwards I quickly crossed the room towards the raised platform and bookshelves behind the desk, where the Sorting Hat had been kept before. Walking with swift, efficient steps I lifted my wand a little higher over my head as I went, trying to illuminate the high shelves. A glimmer of silver flickered in the wand light, grabbing my attention, and coming to a stop I lifted my arm just a little more, coming to a complete and stunned stop as the darkness fled and revealed what had been hidden.

"What is it doing in there?" I asked myself quietly, aghast as I stared up at the proud and ancient Sorting Hat, trapped in a cage high on the shelf. The hat's prison was square box made up of what appeared to be sharp, hard lines, however, the walls of the cage shimmered blue, silver and grey in the light, swirling colours making up a cell that was more magic than substance. I was watching the drooping hat as it slumped in the cage, horrified by what had been done to it, when Draco's voice cut across my pondering, jolting me as I had managed to forget about him for a moment there. His presence struck me like the pull of a magnet as he started to talk.

"Snape locked up everything of value after Weasley and the others tried to steal the Sword of Gryffindor." Draco explained and I thought that that made sense, even though I couldn't see why he would do this to the Sorting Hat or who he thought would try and steal it, unless of course he knew what I did but I didn't know how he possibly could.

"So Snape cast the charm? The one that's keeping it prisoner?" I asked, frowning thoughtfully as I looked up at the trapped hat and couldn't make sense of something, this thought niggling away at me.

"I should imagine so, who else would have?" Draco said, as though not really sure why that mattered or why I was even asking.

"Then how can it possibly still be working?" I asked, more myself than Draco as I took another tentative step forwards, "I though all spells broke when their casters died." I pondered tactlessly; unaware of what I had just said until the force of my words hit the blond behind me like a ton of bricks and I felt him stop, felt the awkwardness and surprise in the air. And immediately, in spite of everything, I felt like crap.

He must not have known. I thought, my heart twinging with a sympathy that wasn't tainted by my grudgingness I turned around to look at him, and how could he have, he'd been here in the castle the entire time. I only knew about Snape's death because the others had told me, Draco had no way of knowing. Draco was frowning deeply, his eyes downcast and his expression twitching as he digested the news that his mentor was dead with a harsh severity that bordered on coldness, however, I knew this boy well enough to know that as much as he might have complained about Snape in the past, his death still had a profound effect on him. Even if he refused to show it. "Draco-" I started to say, almost about to sooth him before the stubborn Slytherin spoke over me, not about to let me say what I was going to, that I was sorry for him.

"I know a spell that will open it." Draco said as though I hadn't just told him his mentor was dead, and with nothing more than his troubled but hardened expression to show his upset. Seeming confident he strode to walk around me as though nothing had happened, and just as I went to reach out to him, to offer my support, I was pulled up short when surprise sparked inside of me, shocking me upright and pulling a small gasp from my lips as my eyes shot wide and my head span.

The vision burst forth with no interval, no transitioning darkness, no waiting at all with an immediate urgency. Feeling as though I had been beamed up and then sent straight back down to Earth by aliens, I left the present at the foot of the platform and landed in the future in front of the shelves, only a few steps away. Acute but foreign irritation stoked my anger as I stood there; seething with a rage I didn't have a reason for yet. Hip cocked and arms folded across my chest I scowled up at the hat before turning to glare at the blond who was once again by my side. Annoyed I watched as he lifted his arm to point it at the hat, and snapped, "would you just drop the I-know-what-I'm-doing-when-I-really-don't macho nonsense and let me figure this out?" sick of the way he always thought that he was right and completely convinced that he wouldn't be able to do this, I KNEW that he couldn't, knew it automatically with every sense I had, but still he wouldn't listen.

Draco gave me a sideways glance before returning his gaze to the swirling silver of the Sorting Hat's cage, "I do know what I'm doing, have a little faith." I snorted at that, turning away in scorn, yeah, that was exactly what I needed. "Laxo!" Draco cast undeterred with a swish of his wand, shooting a vibrant jet of purple light upwards towards the cage, one that remained connected to his wand as it crossed the short distance, and didn't start to fade from the tip until it collided with its target. Then, three things happened simultaneously, Draco's face relaxed as he started to lower his wand, waiting expectantly for his spell to work, the light beaming into the cage flickered and stilled, appearing solid as it hung in mid-air before suddenly turning a firm steel grey, which shot back down the line of the spell to whence it came. Shock widened Draco's features as my own heart gave a jolt of panic and his clear blue eyes shot wide, right before the strange grey beam collided with his wand and with a yelp of pain, Draco was thrown backwards.

Horror-struck I span, "Draco!" I screamed, unable to do anything in my shock as he slammed into the wall and fell to the floor.

I surfaced gasping. The terror inspired by what I had just seen literally had me shaking as I opened my eyes to find myself at the foot of the dais again, heart thumping I just stared ahead, trying to wrap my head around what had been shown to me when a blur of pale white and black stepped into my blurred vision. Draco, confidently ascending the steps of the platform, turning I felt fear rise like bile in my throat as I watched him shake out his wand arm and knew what was going to happen.

"No," the word was a whisper of denial as I started forwards, my hand wrapping around Draco's wrist to pull him back just as I cried, "Stop, you don't know the spell."

Draco didn't resist as I turned him to look at me, however, standing even taller than usual an top of the dais Draco looked frustrated as I held onto him, "would it kill you to have a little faith in me?" he asked me and my heart plummeted with the familiarity of that, just before he turned to pull himself out of my grip and walk away. I panicked.

"Yes!" I groaned with effort as I tightened my hold on him and dragged him back, "yes it would, if I remember rightly it didn't serve me very well the last time I decided to trust you. But that's not the point now, you don't know the spell to release the hat, and you'll-" I reeled in mild hysterics as Draco looked down at me with the most open but unreadable expression before cutting across me.

"Ivy-"

"No! I'm being serious, Draco, I've just had a vision, if you use that spell it'll kill you." I said with earnest and at the look of surprise and something infinitely tender that he wore I caught myself, "So if you value your life at all you'll listen to me for once." I said in a somewhat gruff voice before roughly throwing his hand away from me and taking a step back.

Unable to believe that I'd done that, that I'd betrayed myself so badly, I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I stared away from him angrily, my arms folded tightly across my chest and shifting on my feet awkwardly. What an idiot, I chastised myself; why not just tell him that you never got over him? You pretty much already have. Frustrated with myself, with him, with Fates for this very uncomfortable and unnecessary situation, I chanced a look over at him to find Draco watching me, an expression of bewilderment and something else incomprehensible on his face. Oh great, I thought, quickly turning away as my stomach gave a lurch of humiliation while my heart was jolting for different reasons entirely, however, I soon decided that I didn't have to just stand there though this. "Besides," I said, with a confidence and surety that I didn't feel, "I'm not sure that magic is what we need to open this."

With my head held high I hastily took to the steps of the platform and passed Draco without so much as a glance in his direction, though I felt him with every nerve I had, I only kept my gaze firmly on the trapped hat, sighing hopelessly inside its prison. I didn't know what it was, maybe I had been around Hermione too long, but logic was starting to sink into me, something about the vision I had had made me think that to use any spell on the cage would be dangerous, and after what I had seen happen to Draco I wasn't about to risk attempting another spell, which meant there was only one option left that I could see. And that is where, most would argue, my logic ended, but hey, I never claimed to be rational exactly, only that my friends logic was rubbing off on me a little.

Striding forwards, my shoes slapping on the polished wood, I came to a stop in front of the bookshelf, right below the Sorting Hat. I looked up at it, trying to make out how thick its walls were but finding it impossible due to the churning texture of the cage, and succeeding only in gaining the despondent hat's attention. It pulled up straight in its jail as it spotted me, and the tear it used for a mouth opened and closed as though it were talking but the sound was trapped behind the mist. I'll get you out, I thought determinedly, turning to my left, my gaze searching for something, until it landed on a nearby end table, upon which there was an open book and a quill. Reacting instantly and feeling my resolve harden even more I grabbed the quill and turned my probing gaze to the right, lifting my wand when I spotted what I wanted, the rolling ladders that would be used to reach the topmost shelves of the bookcase and muttered, "Accio ladders,"

The spell set the wheels into motion instantly, running along their tracks the ladders swept along the front of the bookshelf before coming to a stop in front of me, reaching out I took hold of the cool, gold railing and raised one step onto the first stair as Draco, who had been silently watching up until now, asked, "what are you doing?" with a degree of urgency and rebuke.

"What's needed," I said with simple determination and before he could protest, as I knew he would he fought everything I did; I took to the steps and jogged upwards.

"Ivy!" Draco yelled up at me and I felt the ladders give a jerk as he reached them and grabbed the rails, wrapping my hand tightly around the banisters I kept my balance half way up, and looked over my shoulder down at Draco, who was looking up at me furiously, "use your head, you just told me that thing would kill me and now you're wanting to play around with it? Come down." Draco demanded, his pale cheeks flushed with pink as he frowned up at me reproachfully but didn't follow.

Not impressed by his commanding tone I pulled myself in towards the ladders so that I could see him better and looked down, my hair falling around my face and feeling unsettling emotions turning in my stomach that I was determined to ignore. There was something in his voice, something that sounded almost like concern, and it reached out to the part of me that was still stupid enough to believe in him. "I'll be fine; you were going to do it wrong." I said bluntly, putting off saying all the things his seeming worry had me wanting to say, and continuing up the ladders with such speed and vigour that they shook until Draco tightened his hold and steadied them.

"Ivy!" Draco repeated, somewhere between a shout and a groan of despair, "and you said I didn't know what I was doing! You're being rash, Ivy, please come back down." Draco added in desperation and while that one, pleading word, so rarely uttered from his lips, struck a chord deep inside of me, I continued to scramble up the ladder resolutely until I reached the hat.

"Let's get you out of there," I told the Sorting Hat, which was still talking and moving behind the faux glass. Despite my confident words, I hesitated then, doubt setting in as my focus shifted from the hat to the enchanted cage, the swirling grey colours allowing me to drift a little and really wonder if I was doing the right thing. If I was wrong, if my hunch wasn't correct, then that was it, I'd meet the same fate as Draco in my vision and Neville would never get the hat, likely never kill Nagini, and that risk was a great and terrible one. However, if I was right and this was all I had to do, and I was too much of a coward to do the right thing then I'd never forgive myself; never forget what didn't happen because of me.

Old fears were surfacing, old doubts left buried for years under a tough façade and hard attitude. I could hear Draco shouting me from bellow, but he sounded more distant, more echoy than he really was, I couldn't hear him properly, I was too within myself, too lost in indecision. Could I do this? I asked myself, dithering with my hand before the cage, and doubting myself and hearing the taunts of my old tormentors, those who had convinced me I was strange, a freak, and had made my childhood a misery. I didn't think I was strong enough to do this, it was all an act, all a front to keep myself from going through what I had all those years before and now things were serious, I needed to be brave, and I wasn't sure if I could. Unbidden the memory of my friends broke through my self-conscious thoughts, all that they had been through, all the fears they had faced, were brought like evidence to the forefront of my mind. Ron with his secret jealousy and insecurities about Harry, who had managed to suck up his pride and come back after he left and had destroyed the Horcrux even after it played on the one thing he feared most. Hermione who had remained strong and level-headed even after everything with Bellatrix and having to let go of the rules she clung to for support. Of Harry, who had been so strong this year, and even of Draco, the boy I had told myself I hatred for the past year but who I had still rushed up here to save, and I knew that I had to do this. Neville needed the hat, the Wizarding World needed him to kill the snake, sod it, I thought, shaking off these dark, troubling thoughts and setting my expression with resolution, I was supposed to be the reckless one anyway. And with that thought I released the golden railing and setting my jaw against the anticipated pain, plunged my hand into the cage.

I heard Draco shout out as my hand broke the surface of the cage, realising what I was doing far too late to stop me. The charmed walls felt cool and slick, like gel as my hand pushed through their swirling surface, expecting it to hurt I was pleasantly surprised when it did not, and I was only met by this slimy resistance. There was still time yet for something bad to happen, for me to be thrown across the room like Draco would have, I knew that, but I couldn't stop the lightening of the weight of the fear in my heart or the widening of my eyes, I was doing this. The wall was thicker than it appeared, but I finally burrowed my way into the hallow middle where the hat was kept, and being as gentle as I could I took hold of it at the rim, its ragged tear flapping again as though still talking to me. All of this was fine, confidence flooded me before I could stop it, I was blinded by cockiness and the pride of being sharp enough to spot this trick, to figure out that Snape would expect a wizard to try and use magic to get to the hat, and never attempt to get it by hand, and so didn't expect what happened next in the least. It was when I tried to pull my hand out that it all swung back around on me. A scream of agony and surprise tore from my lips as I tried to retract my hand, blinding pain burning away at my wrist like the raging fire of the Room of Requirement. Automatically I tried to quickly wretch my hand away but that only made it hurt worse, crying out again I had to stop, my skin raw and the pain too much, I couldn't bear it, it was as though someone were scraping away at my flesh, pulling it from the bone.

"Ivy," Draco shouted from the ground and the ladders shook again as he quickly took to them, hurrying up.

"No!" I said hurriedly, my pain in my voice and horrified that he would see me in this state. "I'm fine, stay down there." I insisted but Draco refused to do me even that small favour and carried on scrambling up. Biting my lip I turned back to the cage, the pain around my wrist having dulled to a mere throbbing now but it was still uncomfortable, however I knew I couldn't leave it in there, especially not with Draco here, I couldn't show such weakness, and Neville needed this. Once again I acted only on instinct, pure, careless nature, and bit down hard on the soft flesh of my lips against the agony that was sure to come, setting my jaw and flexing my fingers around the hat, that's rip was moving as though it were trying to advise me, I braced myself before I pulled.

A murmur of pain bubbled against the barrier I'd made with my lips but I didn't make a sound more than that as I steadily withdrew my hand from the cage of liquid gas. It was excruciating, there were no two ways about it. It hurt like nothing I'd ever felt before, it was a different kind of pain to the Cruiciatus Curse, to the burning spell on the gold in Bellatrix's vault, and in the slow, agonising moments it took me to pull my hand and the hat away, it felt as though the skin of my hand was being torn completely away, like the instrument that was doing to skinning was scraping the bones as it did so. I held my breath and it swelled in my chest, making my lungs ache, blood pounded in my ears and tears prickled in my eyes, defiant of my desire to stay strong. I let out a gasp of a breath and paused with my wrist half way out, drawing another deep into me my fingers twitched and I was about to carry on but I couldn't bring myself to, it was hurting too much, it didn't matter to me then who this would benefit or that I was almost there, all my mind could think about was the pain my body was being subjected to and stopping it any way it could. I was trying to gather my scattered wits when the ladder gave an almighty shake and I felt a weight behind me, Draco was there, one step below me, one hand wrapped around the railing and the other grasping my left shoulder. Fighting to remain strong I turned to look at him, unfamiliar bright red lines on his hand catching but not holding my attention, and I found myself staring into his hard blue eyes. Draco's expression was tight and strained, his left eye was twitching, but something told me that it wasn't due to irritation he was acting like this.

"Come on," he said in a gravely tone, no encouragement, no words of sympathy or promises that it would be all right, just those two words coupled with the curling of his fingers around my throbbing hand, and it was all the motivation I needed.

Turning away from Draco but still gathering strength from his touch I balled my hand into a fist inside the hat and, teeth bared and brow furrowed, continued to wretch my hand through the thick resistant spell, which like the gel I had likened it to, sucked on my hand as I tried to pull it out, making the task all the harder. The enchantment didn't hurt any less; the pain was just the same as it always had been, but with Draco there, it became more bearable, somehow. Finally, both my hand and the hat were free from the cage and I felt like letting out a cry of relief but I resisted, as the cool air rushed to sooth my stinging flesh and the oppressive burning vanished. A big smile of achievement plastered on my face I descended the steps with a silent Draco, jumping the last few stair, and feeling the lightness and joy of having completed this task fill me, of knowing Neville could do what he had to, I turned to face Draco, surprised to see that the blond had a face like thunder. Looking furious for some reason Draco stood there, watching me with his arms folded across his chest and his entire body trembling with the force of his emotion. Baffled I looked across at him as, appearing as though he were going to give me a piece of his mind, Draco opened his mouth to speak. However, the Sorting Hat spared me from whatever lecture he was going to give as it called in a loud, booming voice that had the both of us jumping,

"Jones!" its impressive voice rang with gratitude, "Thank you, I always knew I chose your house well, even for a Gryffindor, you have an inordinate amount of courage and daring. And I am grateful for that. As for the doubts that plague you even now, as repayment for what you have done for me, know that they have no founding. I am never wrong, you belong with your house and you always did, your actions today prove that, only one of true bravery could have the strength to free me, it was the bind of the spell."

Heat flooded my cheeks as my heart plummeted with the hat's words, they were meant to be reassuring, to sooth the worries I had secretly carried all these years, but I couldn't focus on the spirit they were intended in, only who else was present to hear them. Looking over the top of the tatted hat I grudgingly met Draco's gaze, his expression pinched as though in question, as he no doubt realised what the Sorting Hat meant. Humiliated to have my doubts voiced, my deepest fear, that I wasn't good enough, put out there in the open in front of HIM; I quickly turned away, glancing off to the side so that I wouldn't have to look at his confused expression. I knew he wouldn't be able to understand, he wouldn't be able to appreciate what it was like to feel like you were a fraud, to be a part of something and not feel like you belonged, to feel as though you were just there by accident. All my childhood I had been told by my peers that I was weird, had been bullied and because I was unable to stand up for myself properly I had been made to feel weak and pathetic. When I came to Hogwarts I had wanted things to change, and seeking to reinvent myself I had thought that being a Gryffindor would be the perfect way to make me brave, only I had never stopped feeling like a fake. I hated having that insecurity bare before him, when I had spent so long pretending I didn't have any.

"Why would Snape cast a spell that required bravery?" Draco asked, his voice cautious as he questioned the hat but a quick glance in his direction revealed that he was watching me with that same questioning look he had been wearing earlier, but he hadn't said a thing about what the hat had said before. A tug on my heartstrings pulled my head upright and I was looking back at Draco when he spoke next. "It doesn't make any sense; it's not a Slytherin quality."

"Very astute of you, Malfoy," the Sorting Hat commented in a calculating kind of way, as though he were weighing Draco up, but said no more and didn't expand upon his words.

What if that was the point, I wondered, though the thought was vague and slightly out of reach, maybe the cage wasn't supposed to keep people out forever, just until the right circumstances or the right people came along. However, that thought was ludicrous, why would Snape allow room for a Gryffindor or another brave student to take the hat, when he had already stopped some of the same students from taking the fake sword? It didn't add up, and though this troubled me we didn't have the time to stand here and figure this all out, we had the hat and that was the important thing, now we just had to ensure Neville got it. Lifting my other hand to hold the Sorting Hat up between the two I looked across at Draco, thinking back to my vision and trying to remember if I had seen how Neville got the hat. Had he just been given it or had something else happened? I was about to open my mouth to voice the question aloud, to see if the hat or Draco had any thoughts on what we should next, when a powerful, echoing voice sounded chillingly in the room, causing both Draco and I to freeze as we recognised it instantly. It was Voldemort, and the ceasefire was over.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you back his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won."

**Author note: Sorry, sorry, sorry, I know this is horrifically late, and I never intended for this to take this long, but I've been working a lot lately and we've just moved house so all the jobs just built up until there was no time for writing. I hope that you guys like this, I'm rather proud of the first bits, but the further I get in the less I like it, but what do you think? That's what matters. I can't think of anything else to say, and a lengthy author note on top of my lateness would be inexcusable, so that's all, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Oh, and thank you to everyone for the Birthday wishes, I had a lovely day thank you :) x**

**Anonymous Review Replies**

**Naii: Thank you love, I'm glad to hear that you like it. :)**

**Sammi V: Awww, thank you so very much for such lovely compliments, don't worry about not reviewing until now, I can understand and do the same very often myself. I'd love to hear about your OC, if you ever need someone to talk it through with let me know, I like doing things like that and it often leads to me thinking more deeply about my own characters. I'm also thrilled to hear that you thought I kept Draco in character, which has always been one of my main aims, though I think I slipped a little here. And it's brilliant that you like Ivy too and think that she fits. Yay, I'm so glad I have you yelling at your computer screen with how completely Ivy ignores Draco's attempts, that's what I wanted. Haha, I get strange looks from my siblings all the time. Thank you for the birthday wishes, and I'll do my very best to get more of Foresight up soon.**

**Ellie: Thank you love, glad that you liked it and hope you enjoy this one. :)**

**Tink R Bell: Thanks for the review, glad that you enjoyed it and are looking forward to more Ivy and Draco, I hope this chapter delivered some of that, but there is still plenty to come ;)**

**Millie: Another Merlin fan, yay! I managed to sneak a few quotes at the chapter tops, which I was chuffed to be able to do ;) I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying my writing and thank you for the review.**

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**Monster: Thank you, so glad to hear that you like it and I hope this chapter met with your expectations. :) x**


	38. Signal Fire

**Chapter thirty-eight: Signal Fire**

**'In the confusion and the aftermath,**

**You are my signal fire.**

**The only resolution and the only joy,**

**Is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes.' Snow Patrol – Signal Fire**

**Ivy**

_"Harry Potter is dead."_

Those four devastating words spoken in that sickening, goading voice echoed in my head as the world dimmed around me. Everything slid out of focus as I staggered under the weight I refused to bare. Slowly and automatically I reached out with a hand, the one that still held the Sorting Hat, to steady myself against a table, unable to make sense of anything around me as the room span and faded.

"Harry Potter is dead."

Bile rose in my throat and I gripped the hat and the table all the tighter, no, the denial staggered through my disjointed thoughts as I shook my head in disbelief. No, Harry couldn't be dead, it was a lie, it had to be, it was a trick, a ploy, it simply wasn't possible that he could be dead. The only way…the only way…oh no. My eyelids shuttered as a fresh wave of nausea rolled through me, rocking me to my core as riddled with guilt I felt as I would actually throw up. It's my fault. I forced myself to think the words even though my mind shrank away from them, unable to stand the idea. The only way Harry could possibly be dead was if he had gone to the forest to meet Voldemort, I had known that he wanted to, known that he was capable of doing it, and still I had left him unattended and vulnerable to his own heroic stupidity. Oh Merlin, if I'd have just stayed with him, I admonished, torturing myself with what I had done wrong, with the choices I had made that had led to this. If only I hadn't left him alone I would have been able to stop him, I would never have let him go on this suicide mission, then this wouldn't be happening, then everything would be fine…then Draco would have died. The thought tore at my ragged heart viciously, the organ in agony even over the mere possibility of Draco dying and my mind providing me with the horrific imagine of Draco, the person who inspired feelings in me that defied explanation, both good and bad ones, sliding dead to the floor of the seventh floor corridor, discarded by the Dementor. No, I physically cringed away from that thought, unable to stand even thinking of it. But Harry, my friend Harry, who had suffered through so much already, he was dead now and it was all my fault.

"You have lost half your fighters." Voldemort's voice cut through my inner torment, sparking rage from my despair like a match to a petrol fire, feeling a hatred the likes of which I had never felt before I looked up, my world going from blurry to crystal clear in an instant, from unfocused to zoomed in, all of my attention shooting in the direction of the door, my route out of here and to Voldemort. "My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared."

"Like hell," I snarled, my vision flaring red as starting forwards, the Sorting Hat clenched tightly and almost forgotten in my hand, I charged towards the door.

"Ivy?" I heard Draco ask, his tone both panicked and exasperated, it seemed to imply he was going to try and stop me, which was something I wasn't about to let happen. Picking up speed I felt him start after me and his continued presence behind me as I burst through the door and tore down the staircase, and once more I drew strength from it.

"Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, all will be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together." Infuriated by Voldemort's false words, at the life he had so casually taken away from me, from all of us, I was so lost in my emotions and so thoughtless that it was a wonder I didn't fall down the stairs with the speed I took them at. Draco's shoes slapped once more on the stone behind me but I thought little of that, other than that for now he was here with me. After what had happened every ounce of my hatred was directed at that one evil being in the forest, leaving only my more alarming emotions for Draco.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs I didn't slow down in the slightest as I pivoted and ran down the decimated corridor, leaping over bits of rubble and skidding in the blood of my fellows as I rushed on with single minded determination. My skin was damp with sweat, my hair plastered to my head and my breathing laboured, my legs ached more than I would have thought possible, but still I didn't stop. How could I? As soon as I reached the staircases I used the banister to angle myself towards the steps and catapult me on, Draco still following closely behind me, his breathing just as heavy as my own.

"Ivy, please," he panted as we ran down the staircase, "think about what you're doing, it's what he wants, to get you out in the open so that he can get rid of you too!"

"He can try," I growled, only one thing in mind, making Voldemort pay for everything he had done, everything he had destroyed and all the good he had taken from the world.

"He will succeed!" Draco insisted as I sprinted across the landing and down the next set of stairs with him close at my heels, his warnings falling on deaf ears, Voldemort had killed my friend, and nothing else mattered, "You need to run, now!"

I snapped then, unable to take any more I stopped dead in my tracks and using the railing to steady myself, whirled to face Draco, my expression a mask of fury and anguish. "He killed Harry!" I all but screamed in my grief, and Draco stopped abruptly before me, his eyes widening before they narrowed again, something cold and distant in his icy blue gaze when I spoke again, he couldn't understand. "He killed Harry, my friend! The one bloody hope the Wizarding World had of survival, and it's all my fault! I could have stopped him," I told him, the last words coming out as a sob as tears finally pricked in my eyes and my anger waned, the sheer depth of my sorrow overwhelming it, "if I'd have been down there I could have stopped him I know I could. I'm not running, I didn't the last time you told me to and I'm certainly not now," I said conviction thick in my voice as well as tears, as I locked my gaze with Draco's, his expression thawing at the memory. "Voldemort is not getting away with what he's done." To me. To you. To Harry. To everyone. I added internally as I turned away from the boy I had once considered my friend and took off down the stairs again, my hair sticking to my damp cheeks as the cool morning breeze drifting up from the wrecked front doors and blew it back.

"You run if you want to, though it's long past the time you decided where you stand in this, with your master, or with us. But I can't." I said, my voice sounding tired even to my own ears. Not expecting anything other than for Draco to leave me then I raced all the faster, hating that I had to say those words but knowing that I was right, we couldn't go back into our purgatory, with him neither here nor there, I couldn't do that again. I couldn't stand here and watch him dither, even now after all he had done as a Death Eater last year, I'd had enough, and I wasn't like him, I couldn't run away when people needed me, or leave others to handle to consequences of my mistakes.

I carefully but hurriedly picked my way to the top of the Grand Staircase and speeding up once more raced downwards, below me I could see the last few Hogwartians making their slumped, reluctant way through the front doors and into the grounds. Feeling a thrill of anticipation and joy at the sight of them, afraid and glad of how close I was to seeing this with my own eyes, I bounded down as many stairs as I could at once in my desperation to reach them. Until a horrifying screamed echoed from outside. I stilled. I recognised the voice immediately, but my mind wouldn't understand it, of that person making such a sound, it didn't make sense to me. Professor McGonagall never screamed, never showed such emotion. And that understanding sent my heart plummeting, Merlin, what must be waiting for us outside. Leaping the last few stairs I slipped a little on the wreckage littering the Entrance Hall, the falling sensation of the trip nothing compared to the horror of McGonagall's scream, but regaining my balance I sprinted towards the front doors, beyond which the rose tinted glow of dawn was just alighting.

"No!"

"No, Harry!"

"Harry, HARRY!" my friends' heartbroken screams assaulted my ears, reaching me even over the sound of my heartbeat echoing there, as I raced through the doors. My feet and heart came to a screeching stop in that instant; my blood ran cold as looking over the war-torn heads of what remained of our fighters my worst fears were confirmed. I reached for the wall, quick as a flash grabbing hold of it keep myself upright, and feeling completely and utterly detached I could hardly feel the rough, cold stone beneath my palm, nothing but agony reached me in the choking bubble that entombed me.

There, surrounded by sneering, sniggering Death Eaters, overlooked by a triumphant and arrogant Voldemort and carried in the arms of a weeping Hagrid, was Harry. Dead. The cry that erupted from my lips was as fierce as it was heart retching, I felt as though the force of it was ragging the organ from my chest. Refusing to believe what I was seeing but unable to deny it, my knees buckled beneath me and pressing my hand to my lips I somehow managed to keep myself on my feet as I beheld the sight of my friend lying dead, his head lolling and limbs hanging. No! My mind protested in denial as I shook my head fiercely, it wasn't right, it couldn't be, this wasn't what I had seen! Harry wasn't supposed to die in the forest, I had seen him racing across the hall to kill Voldemort, I had seen him! "No!" the scream escaped, a natural reaction of my body, an action without conscious thought, and before I could so much as consider what I was about to do, I started forwards, knuckles turning white as I gripped my wand, determined that this monster didn't get away with what he had done.

I didn't get far. Frantic and reckless I wasn't aware of anything else around me, and consumed by my emotions I launched myself forwards but got no further than the edge of the step when something caught me. Hands, firm and steadying wrapped around my waist, pulling me to a stop joltingly before drawing me back against someone's chest, restraining me. "No!" I wailed as I fought against their hold, "It's not right! He can't be-!" I shrilled; squirming in my captors grip, even as fear for my life niggled at me as the thought that this might be a Death Eater crossed my mind, the impossibility of Harry's death still consumed me. "He can't – can't be dead!" I insisted somewhere between a sob and a snarl.

"You can forget it if you think I'm letting you join him," Draco's irate voice hissed in my ear, flooding me with a warmth that smoothed over my nerves but did nothing to banish my fury, my pain. Underneath that, beneath the rage and anguish, beneath how good it felt against his chest, a jolt of irritation shot through me as a petty, sarcastic part of me scoffed at the irony, I'd been here before, Draco holding me back as I tried to get to my friends. My life really was a downwards spiralling circle of the same shit.

"I won't, he will!" I bellowed with absolute conviction, but Draco's hold didn't loosen in the slightest, if anything he held me tighter.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort commanded, cutting off mine and everyone else's grief-stricken cries as a bang and flash of frozen blue light erupted from his wand tip to spread out over the crowd. My screams of disbelief and outrage were forced back down my throat as my tongue rolled backwards, and choking on the emotion I could no longer vocalise, I felt my rage begin to win out again and fought all the harder to break free of Draco.

"It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet where he belongs," Voldemort instructed and I shivered with a deep hatred, keeping my eyes fixed on the vile creature who had given the command as Hagrid gently lowered Harry to the ground, my anger bubbling away inside of me as Voldemort eyed my friend like the superior being he thought he was. Teeth clenched I lunged but Draco held me back, keeping me tight against the hard lines of his chest, and here like this, in his arms once more and broken as I felt, I wanted nothing more than to give in to the almost excruciating desire to turn around and melt into his embrace. To let myself take the comfort I knew that he could offer, but I could do that.

"You see?" Voldemort asked his resistant audience, "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron roared, breaking the curse that bound us all with the passion of his anger and causing me and several others to shout our consensus.

Seeing an opportunity as Voldemort glared furiously at his defiant victims, refusing to bow before him and submit without a fight, I redoubled my efforts to break free. "Let me go, Draco!" I yelled, a painful mixture of a demand and a plea, but still Draco didn't relinquish his hold.

Not about to give up I leant against Draco's arms, wrapped securely around me, and lifting my feet off the stair I gave him my full weight. Draco staggered, making a noise of pain, he couldn't hold me up and slipped forwards under the strain, however my feet crashed back to the step without his grip so much as slackening. Exasperated I blew my hair out of my face and turned to look over my shoulder at him for the first time since he had grabbed me, unprepared for what I would see. Draco's face, covered in soot and slick with sweat, bore no trace of fear or cowardice, not anymore; the only expression he wore was one of a determination that rivalled my own. My resolve wavered.

"I won't," Draco said with sincerity and a strange tenderness in his voice that had my mind reeling, hurt and confused as I was I didn't know what to make of this.

Transfixed on the confusing blond who held me I didn't hear the silence until Voldemort spoke again, "Yes Draco," he mocked, and realising that we were the only ones not back under the silencing curse I turned to look at him, my heart pounding with dread and hatred once more. "Let her go. She wants to face me, to avenge dear Potter, why, be fair and give the girl a chance."

While I seethed at the disgusting serpent's words and stood taller in defiance, Draco's arms around me became vice like, if he was strangely strong before he was immovable now, scowling over my head at his master Draco closed what little distance I had put between us and held me to his chest again. Every emotion I could put a name to temporarily vanished, in that instant there was nothing but the warm feel of his arms around my waist, the strong presence of his chest against my back, and a thousand perplexing emotions that blossomed at his touch. It all felt too good, and given everything, that was incredibly bad.

"Draco?" a female voice asked from across the crowds, snapping from my trance I looked out at the Death Eaters and spotted Narcissa Malfoy, not knowing she was even there until now. Eyeing her son with a look that was almost beseeching she took a step away from her husband, the rest of the Death Eaters and Voldemort, clearly confused by what was happening and seeming to be actually afraid of something. "Do as the Dark Lord says, let the Mudblood go."

Draco didn't do as she asked, in fact, he didn't do or say anything, didn't react in any way other than with a twitch that seemed to quiver through his entire body, like barely repressed rage or revulsion. Lucius Malfoy opened his mouth to speak then, wide eyed and stunned by his son's disobedience before his expression grew stern, however, Narcissa cut across him and taking yet another step towards her son, repeated, "Draco-?" her pleading words were lost though, as Voldemort, his expression tight and vicious, let loose another silencing charm that hit us like a slap to the face, silencing everyone anew and causing me to scowl at him all the harder.

"Enough!" He snapped, before directing his attention solely on Draco as he said. "A fool's choice, Draco, but I will deal with you later."

Standing taller I shifted in Draco's grip so that I was standing right in front of him, almost shielding him in a clear and silent message that I would fight Voldemort's attempts to make good on that threat. Through my hard and narrowed gaze I regarded the monster without an inch of fear, I could no longer summon up that emotion, I'd lost too much to this abomination today, and I was going to make well sure that I didn't lose Draco to him too. The serpentine monster gave me a mocking look before he turned his red gaze away from Draco and I and returned to his captives.

"…As I dealt with Harry Potter," he said, throwing out his voice to address all the seething Hogwartians Voldemort began pacing in front of Harry's discarded body and continued as though there had been no interruption. "Your champion was killed as he tried to sneak out of the castle grounds," Voldemort proclaimed, the disbelief and hatred his words continued to stoke had me straining against my restraints, though not Draco's hold, I fought against the curse that kept me silent and felt the spell wavering under the strength and mine and the others' combined suspicion. What a ridiculous petty lie, there wasn't a single soul here who would believe that on either side; Harry would never have even tried to run away from us. "Killed while trying to save himself-"

Furious I closed my eyes and grit my teeth as I tilted my head skywards, words couldn't describe the hatred I felt then, the contempt for the creature who wasn't satisfied just to kill Harry, but had to destroy his memory as well, there wasn't a word in the English language to aptly convey the sheer amount of loathing I felt. Trying to shake off Draco's restraining hold I went so far as to break his grip around my waist but made it no further than single step towards my target before Draco grabbed a hold of my arms and pulled me short.

"Lying bastard!" I tried to yell in my fury and frustration, but the curse kept me silent and Draco kept me back. I could feel the weight of several Death Eater's gazes upon me but with a snobbery that would have put even them to shame I ignored them as they laughed at me. The only ones amongst my spectators who didn't find my outburst amusing in the slightest were the Malfoys.

There was a commotion up at the front, a movement that had forced Voldemort to stop his tirade of falsehoods, but even from this height I couldn't see exactly what, there were too many heads between me and what was happening, until a figure stumbled from the crowds, wand drawn, and my heart stopped.

"And who is this?" Voldemort asked as the battered figure rightened its self and my determined efforts doubled, to the point where Draco's fingers began to dig painfully into my skin with the strength required to restrain me. Merlin Neville, no, I thought, unable to believe this and unwilling to stand here and permit another death, Neville had been through too much this year already.

Bellatrix laughed as she, already in an exceptionally perky mood, practically skipped forwards to say, "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord!" Draco's hands on me trembled at the sound of her voice, and a curiosity glance over my shoulder revealed the depth of his scowl, "The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble. The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember," Voldemort said, giving Neville an inspective once over, assessing him, "but you are a pure-blood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville asked, his voice as defiant as his stance.

"You show spirit, and bravery, and you come from noble stock. You'll make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom." Voldemort said, while his Death Eaters shot doubtful, mocking looks at Neville, standing before my brave friend like a king before his subject, full of his regal compliments.

"I'll join you when Hell freezes over," Neville bellowed, and I joined the roar of approval as he yelled, "Dumbledore's Army!"

"Very well," Voldemort said, his voice deathly quiet and his gaze sharp, his demeanour such that it sent chills through me even heated with rage as I was, this would not bode well for Neville, "If that is your choice, Longbottom we will revert to the original plan. On your head," Voldemort continued as his head snapped up to look at Draco and I, his gaze zeroing in on me with a look of malicious triumph, heart racing I didn't understand until the Sorting Hat, which I had completely forgotten I had been holding, was ripped from my grip only to shoot towards Voldemort. "Be it." He flashed me a sarcastic smile and I felt my heart plummet. Leaning back against Draco for support I could have throttled myself, I'd brought it to him.

"There will be no more sorting at Hogwarts school. There will be no more houses. The emblem, the shield and colours of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will surface for everyone, wont they, Neville Longbottom?" A fearful premonition tricked through me like ice water, I didn't know how or why, but Voldemort having the hat was dangerous to Neville.

My premonition was proved correct when, able to do little more than bounce on the balls of my feet, tense and ready should anything happen, I watched as Voldemort placed the Sorting Hat on Neville's head with a flourish, before roughly ragging it down over his eyes. A flash of a flame flickered before my Inner Eye, horrified I acted on instinct and screamed, "No!" My cry prompted the others into action; the captured freedom fighters surged forwards at Neville's treatment, but the Death Eaters kept them back, both through the effort of the wands and brawn. "Let me go!" I shrilled again, trying to throw off Draco's hold, "he's going to…"

"Neville is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me." Voldemort said, his tone grand but sinister as eyes flashing he turned his gaze away from all of us back to the immobilised Neville.

"There's nothing you can do," Draco panted with effort, straining to pull me back, but I stepped back into his embrace willingly this time, when with not even a breath of hesitation Voldemort set the hat alight. Cries of outrage and fearful screams tore through the air but I couldn't utter so much as a gasp, I stood still, frozen in Draco's grip as I watched in wide-eyed horror while Neville's head was engulfed by flames. I felt my stomach be left behind then, as Voldemort finally pushed me over the edge.

Chaos broke out with that one horrendous act. The ground shook, great earth shuddering booms that sent all of us, Death Eater and Hogwartian alike, scrambling to keep our balance. Draco slacked his grip on me as, wobbling backwards, he tried to keep us both upright, and a part of me catalogue that action as Grawp thundered into view, rounding the side of the castle he spotted Hagrid and let out a bellow at the sight of him. The Death Eaters barely had the time to raise their hands to their ears against the sound before, with the twang of thousands of bow strings; arrows whooshed through the air to arc and rain down on them. I saw my chance in that instant and without a second's hesitation I took it, pushing down on Draco's arms with my own I broke free of his startled grip. Leaping the steps I saw the cowering Death Eaters break ranks, heard their screams as I plunged into the crowd of Hogwartians, racing for the front, where I knew my friends would be, where I knew Neville was. I could hear Draco shouting my name behind me, the sound of it niggled my heart with guilt at running away from him, but I soon pushed that aside, he might have been protecting me then but that didn't mean anything, the Slytherin still had all the reliability of the turncoat he was, and there were more important things than our feeling right then. However, clinging desperately to the ring and Hawthorn wand both, I tore through the throngs. My fellow fighters were making their way back to the castle; released from Voldemort's hold they sort safety from the centaurs' arrows and Grawp's stomping feet as the Death Eaters fled after them, abandoning their positions to save themselves. Stumbling across the uneven ground through a crowd of my terrified friends I searched for Ron and Hermione, needing their support, but unable to find them. Ignoring shouts for me to run and well-meaning hands, that tried to turn me around and pull me to safety, I carried on running, not slowing in the slightest when I saw Death Eaters intermingled with the others, they were too focused on staying alive to pay any attention to me. Or so it had seemed.

**Author note: Right….I know that this chapter is terribly late, and yes, I do have plenty of excuses, work, starting uni, etc, but I'm not going to go on about them, as I doubt that you actually want to hear that. So, I can only hope that you guys accept my apology and enjoyed this chapter. It wasn't originally going to stop there, I have the next few pages written out, but I really couldn't wait any longer and hopefully this re-wets your appetites a bit (I'm much prouder of what I've wrote next).**

**Anonyms review replies:**

**Naii: Thank you so much for the review, I can only hope that this one was worth the wait too, goodness knows it took me long enough.**

**Monster: Thank you, such lovely comments! I'm glad to hear you liked the chapter and hope you enjoyed this one too.**

**Callie C: Thanks for the review! I really enjoyed reading your comments and did check out that video you suggested, it was brilliant, very funny and apropos. Hope this chapter continued the unfolding and that you enjoyed it.**

**My-anonymous-Spanish-reviewer: Gracias por la revisión**


	39. The Final Fight?

**Author note: yes, this is most shamefully late, I'm actually embarrassed by how long it took me to do this, and though I know you guys don't want excuses, I'm going to have to tell you the truth and say that uni has been hectic. I would be an intense course. Anyway, hopefully the length makes up for the lateness somewhat.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the quotes or ideas in this or any other chapter linked with JK Rowling, they clearly belong to the amazing woman herself.**

**Chapter thirty-nine: The final fight?**

**"I had not intended to love him; the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously arrived, green and strong! He made me love him without looking at me." -Jane Eyre**

**Ivy**

I froze, my body humming with alertness as raw magic crackled in my ear, brushing against my skin like an electric current as a spell whistled past my head. Wide eyed I watched as it collided with a terrified Death Eaters just ahead of me, his panicked eyes large as saucers as the green jet of light, that had so narrowly missed me, shot directly towards him. He crumpled to the ground instantly, only to be engulfed by a crowd of his fleeing fellows, running for their lives, and only then, unable to bear the sight, did I spin around, scanning through the throngs until my gazed landed on a crazed looking Death Eater, stopped dead in the crowd and watching me, his wand still raised. Indecision flickered across my would-be attacker's face, kill a Hogwartian, the Seer his master wanted gone, or save himself? He could see me watching him, and with one strained, frightened glare, he turned tail and ran. Rage trickled over my disbelief but I ought not to have been surprised, readying myself I gripped the Hawthorn wand all the tighter and dove back into the crowds. The scared Death Eater wasn't the only one to take a pot shot at me as I tore onwards, but wise to the risk I was able to protect myself, even as people pushing past me jilted my wand arm and knocked me off balance. I soon reached the other side of the masses, ruffled but unharmed and undeterred.

I skidded on the damp grass to stop myself, and looking up was met by the sight of Voldemort and his closest Death Eaters sprinting forwards just like everyone else, Hagrid staggered along behind them, shouting as he looked skywards .But I didn't think much of that. Panting heavily, my heart constricted with the desperate need to help my friends, to find them. I looked around, the sound of blood and the noise of the duellers rushing in my ears, and a cold flood of fear went through me when I couldn't see anyone. Not Ron or Hermione, not Neville, not even Harry was anywhere to be seen. Frantic gaze flicking back to Voldemort I saw what I had missed, Nagini, slithering freely now that the threat to her life had been nullified, or so Voldemort was stupid enough to believe. She rose up ahead of her master, a deadly tower as she drew to her full height to strike at a figure that had just broken free of the crowds it had been swept up in. Neville! Alive and fighting my friend stepped forwards just as the snake went to attack, however before I could even draw breath to cry a warning, Neville turned his body to swing, and with a flash of silver in the dawn light, severed the snake's head. Voldemort's scream of outrage was lost to the noise of the madness around him, but his fury was plain on his demented face. Neville, staggering under the weight of the sword and his wounds, was in grave danger as Voldemort swept towards him with a vengeance. Terrified I started for them, to do what I had raced here to do in the first place, to protect my friends at all costs. But arms flailing I stumbled to a stop as the ground beneath my feet rocked violently, and with a deafening roar that put all others to shame, Grawp bellowed, "Hagger!"

Bounding forwards Grawp's foot, as long and wide as a sofa, landed next to me, shaking the ground where I stood and causing me to stagger backwards as he thundered towards Hagrid. Trying to recover myself and not be trampled by the brotherly giant, I tripped over myself only to be caught by a pair of waiting arms, trying to regain my balance I grabbed hold of the arm reaching around me and looked up as a trembling, irate voice shouted in my ear,

"Be careful!"

Supporting me Draco appeared a strange mixture of furious, exasperated and petrified as he looked down at me, almost searchingly. And though I had no idea why he thought he had the right to look that way, I still felt my heart give a lurch that had nothing to do with my trip. My grip on his arm tightened instinctively. He had followed me. Watching me, silently imploring me to say or do something, Draco's head snapped up abruptly. Another tremendous whoosh sounded and feeling my blood chill I turned to see a swarm of arrows soaring through the air towards us. The centaurs, they had sent another wave of arrows to drive the Death Eaters back, and we were right in the line of fire. Draco's hold around me constricted, his ire at my running away from him vanishing instantly as he held me close.

"Protego!" I cried, releasing Draco's arm and arching my own as a wall of protective magic sprang up in front of us, deflecting the arrows. Supressing a flinch every time one of the deadly missiles bounced off my shield I kept my gaze skyward, horrified to see one of Voldemort's vicious giants intercept Grawp with a brutal swing of his fist, which collided with the shorter giant with an audible thud.

The other giants lumbered forwards to attack Grawp as he wrestled with the first, barely holding his own, but fortunately they didn't get their chance to tip the odds, as from the forest shot Buckbeak and a flock of Thestrals, flying straight for Voldemort's giants they attacked with talons drawn and ready beaks. The giants bawled as Buckbeak and the Thestrals swarmed them, stumbling about as they tried to bat them away, making them twice the threat to those of us on the ground, and with the last of the Death Eaters rushing past us, Draco and I were in their way.

"Come on," I yelled over the snarling, grabbing a dishevelled Draco's hand and tugging him back towards the castle. Gripping hold of him tightly, I ran as fast as I could, fighting against the burning in my lungs and the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm me as I sought to keep us both safe. Unfortunately we were no more so when we caught up with everyone else, no sooner had we reached the crowd piling into the Great Hall than a Death Eater standing on the steps shot a spell at us. Deflecting the spell by the skin of my teeth my ire swelled inside of me and aiming at the charming SOB who had shot at me I shouted, "stupefy!" only for the smarmy sod to disappear inside when the crowd swarmed up and my spell to hit the doorway instead. I growled.

"This way," Draco urged, trying to pull me around the side of the castle and away from the fighters, "we can leave, no one is guarding the gates."

"You go if you want," I told him, our fingers still entwined but my expression stoic and hard, giving away none of the desperate need I felt to keep him by my side, for him to stick by me just this once. I couldn't believe that he still wanted to run, but I wasn't going to beg him to stay. "I can't," I told him, releasing his hand and conscious of the crowd disappearing into the school, feeling a pull to go in there and find my friends, one almost as strong as the desire to stay with him; however I knew which one I'd heed.

Draco didn't say anything, I could see his frustration clear as day on his sooty face, but there was nothing I could or would do about it, I couldn't leave my friends, not when they might need me, I wasn't losing anyone else today. So, emerald ring thumping against my tightening chest, I took off, bounding up the steps into the castle with the last of the fleeing masses, once again entirely convinced that Draco would walk away and leave me, for five suffocating seconds at least, until I felt his presence behind me, heard his shoes clicking on the stone steps, and I let out a breath of relief.

"What are you even planning to do?" Draco asked, his tone comfortably irritated. Familiar.

"I'll let you know when I figure that out," I said, taking the last step at a stride and propelling myself into the Entrance Hall, a thrill of purpose rushing through me and a vague sense of a goal pushing me forwards as I finally put my fury and grief into action, "something to find my friends, and then something vengeful." Was my dry reply.

Engulfed by the throngs once more, Draco and I fought our way through the thrashing bodies. Ducking and dodging and jinxing to force our way past both Hogwartian and Death Eater alike; as I struggled desperately to find my friends and Draco followed me for reasons better left unknown. Wedging myself between two distracted, masked bodies as they were pushed along by the crowds, I stopped. Snapping straight where I stood, a clear target amidst the battle, a jolt of surprise rocketed through me, pulling gasp from my lips that no one could hear as an other-worldly breeze gusted across the front of my brain, wiping away everything as a vision surged forwards. The journey inside myself and into the future didn't take me far, I lost sight of the present standing in the arch of the doorway, and opened my Inner Eye a few paces forwards. Shoved from behind by the surging crowd, I hurriedly grabbed the back of the person in front of me to keep my balance as I scowled. Palms flat against the fighter's, who turned out to be Seamus, school robes, through the gap between two swaying shoulders I spotted a barefaced Death Eater bobbing up above the crowd, watched as he caught sight of a duelling Hogwartian. Pavarti, dispatching of her own opponent, was oblivious to the target she presented, and without a seconds hesitation the Death Eater seized his chance and shot a jet of deadly green light towards her. Pavarti turned, just as the spell sped towards her, too near to stop. Fear consumed her features and my vision ended.

Surfacing with a ragged breath I viewed the world from several steps back, back where I had started but seeing further than before. Heart pounding I scanned the crowd for my fellow Gryffindor, spotting her duelling, black hair swinging with effort, and just like the Death Eater I didn't need to think about this. Rushing forwards I dove straight into the throngs, niceties long since thrown out of the window as I roughly pushed my way through, I didn't hear the complaints of the people I knocked aside, didn't hear the curses they cast my way, the ones that never seemed to hit me, I only focused on reaching Pavarti. The only sound that reached my ears was Draco's voice, as he shoved after me and exclaimed something that sounded oddly like 'Merlin Ambrosius!' as I tore away again.

My gaze flicking between Pavarti and the direction from which her would be attacker would emerge, I ploughed my way through the crowds, almost to Pavarti, her attention still focused on her opponent as she struggled to keep him back, until the Death Eater's attention shifted and Pavarti landed her spell. Revelling in her success Pavarti was unaware of what was going on behind her, as a hard face rose above the crowds.

"Pavarti!" I yelled, reaching out for her as I picked up my speed and broke through the last of the people that separated us. My hand closed around her arm as Pavarti turned; I caught a glimpse of the confusion written on her face before I pulled. The spell whistled past us and collided with the wall with a definite boom. "Down!" I cried, forcing Pavarti into a crouch as she threw her hands over her head and squeaked as rubble exploded from the wall and rained down on us. I could hear the other fighters calling out they fled the blast. Rocks pelted us, but I kept my grip tight on Pavarti and didn't move until the rumbling stopped.

Coming out of our protective crouches, Pavarti and I rose, her eyes were wide as she looked at me, "Did you have a vision?" she asked me breathlessly and, glad that she was okay, I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"Not the time Pavarti," I chided, urging her forwards, "keep moving." I said, and while the rumpled girl looked disappointed she did as I had asked and, wand at the ready, took off. She had yet to disappear into the crowd before a furious voice reached me from behind.

"I'll ask you again," Draco snapped, looking more than a little harassed as he reached me, "are you trying to get yourself killed?" he asked, wand arm hanging by his side and his chest rising and falling from his heavy breaths.

Feeling a rush of irritation hot on the heels of a rush of shameful attraction, I puffed up my own chest and met Draco's gaze, "No, I was under the impression that I was saving lives, actually." I bit back but Draco only scoffed, turning his head to the side in agitation before locking his flaming gaze back on mine and frowning.

Anger ignited inside me at that, at my wick's end I saw the flame flicker behind my eyes before I took a threatening step towards him and snapped, "And you can stop that right now!" as I prodded his chest with a chastising finger, "I don't need your sarcastic shit right now!"

"And I don't need your stupid obstinacy, your I-don't-need-anyone attitude! It's getting on my nerves." He snarled right back, matching both my tone and my passion as he boldly stepped towards me, so close that I had to look up at him, furious I grit my teeth and did just that.

"Well you know what you can do then!" I goaded, but my anger and everyone else in the room faded away as I looked up at him. I felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under me; felt my heart tug in my chest as I stared up at him, expression an enraged snarl and something in his eyes that took my breath away. I watched in stunned bliss as his expression softened, the fire in his eyes didn't so much as flicker, its steady heat was maintained as his gaze dropped and for one heart stopping second, one caught breath, I desperately wanted to kiss him.

"Yes, I do," Draco said, his voice a mere whisper as he lent closer, and mindless in my need I gave in to the power pulling at my heart and went to close the distance between us.

"Ivy!"

With devastating speed everything rushed back to me then. Awareness, memories and the whole world all snapped back to me as that one word bust my delusional bubble, and aching I looked at Draco again. He hadn't moved at the interruption, he stayed exactly where he was, the same intent on his face. However, with more difficulty than it ought to have taken, I turned away to see Hermione forcing her way through the crowds, looking frantic and distress written clear on her face.

Cheeks blazing with heat I tried to ignore the embarrassment and exasperation I felt, to focus on the disgust and my friend's panic, however even as my stomach turned at what I had almost done, my heart fluttered with the mere possibility. I wanted to curse, to pout and stamp my feet at my own stupidity, wanted to yell that it was his fault, that he always did this to me, messed with my head until I couldn't see sense. But most of all, in spite of everything that had happened this year, everything he had done and where we were now, I wanted nothing more than to turn back around and pull those infuriating lips down to mine. I didn't do any of that though, didn't give in to those childish urges, I stood rigidly still instead, every single nerve in my body aware of the blond standing dangerously close to me, and forced myself to think only of my friends. Chin stuck out with determination and effort both, I had my hands balled into tight fists to help me keep control, however, when Draco withdrew, growling under his breath at the disturbance, my resolve wavered frighteningly.

"Ivy," Hermione panted, her words breathless as she rushed towards me, "I can't find Ron! I don't know where he is, he was there one minute…" Hermione stammered, coming to a nervous stop before me and making fidgety motions as she looked around us, unable to keep her attention on me as she desperately searched for Ron.

"Hermione," I soothed, even as the noise around us grew deafening and worry of my own set in, "it's alright, we'll find him." Hermione looked back at me, her intelligent gaze swimming with unshed tears as she took a deep breath to steady herself and nodded. Understanding her fear I reached out to take her hand, wanting to comfort her, even as spells whooshed around us and our friend was lost somewhere in this madness.

However, my world quickly expanded beyond Hermione's distress and our fear for Ron when Draco suddenly surged forwards, stepping behind Hermione as, quick as the strikes of the now dead snake, and with a familiar wand held within his grasp, he swung his wand arm and cried, "Impedimenta!"

Light shot from his wand and my gaze shot with it, head turning to the side I watched in amazement as the spell collided with a masked Death Eater, standing a short distance away with his wand trained on Hermione. With a bellow the Death Eater was blasted back into the crowd, and numb but for a lighting sensation hovering in my chest, I turned back to face Draco, disbelief animating my features.

A flicker of satisfaction flashed across his features as Draco withdrew his wand and stepped back, turning away from his luckless opponent and looking back at us. When had he learnt to duel like that? My internal voice demanded, unable to make sense of anything in my dumbfounded brain, but willing to bet my life that Draco hadn't been able to fight like that the last time I had seen him.

"Th…thank you," a clearly shell-shocked but ever polite Hermione stuttered, while I couldn't even bring myself to speak. Draco had just saved Hermione.

The baffling blond didn't say a word on the subject, and though Draco's gaze flicked to Hermione for a brief second in what might have been comradeship, he didn't acknowledge her thanks. He only placed his hand on the centre of my back, and snapping, "I thought you wanted to find your friends," pushed me forwards. Stunned I staggered onwards under his direction; the wheels in my mind turning too furiously for me protest his demanding tone and manhandling. Had that actually been a selfless act?

However, caught up in the chaos of the crowds, I wasn't left to my disbelief for long, it wasn't the time to analyse what had just happened, panic was setting in around us fast. Penned into the Entrance Hall like cattle and feeling the weight of a long night's battle on their minds, the fighters around us grew swiftly irrational. Curses flew left right and centre, the noise rose to unbearable levels, students frightenedly shouting out for their friends, Death Eaters screaming for direction, and furious words filled the air and thrashing bodies the room. Everyone streaming towards the Great Hall there was no room to breathe, pressed up against from all sides by strangers and bruised from their pushing I tripped forwards with the crowd when we surged forwards again. Grimacing against the discomfort I gripped my wand tightly and fought for the space to turn around, straining to look over my shoulder I couldn't see Hermione anywhere, but the top of Draco's blond head stood out above the masses a few lines back. Pushing myself up onto my toes I went to wave him over but the crowd surged again and I was swept roughly forwards.

"Draco!" I yelled as soon as I recovered myself, my voice one of dozens shouting, "Hermione!" but still I was pushed towards the Great Hall.

Fast growing frantic, refusing to lose the two of them too after everything that had happened today, I desperately struggled to break through the crowd, pushing against the back of the person in front of me and digging my heels into the ground to make enough space to turn, but still it was no use, the throngs were too strong for me. Frustrated I grit my teeth even as hopelessness began to set in. I wanted to get back to them; I NEEDED to get back to them, but the confused and frightened crowds weren't about to part for me. "Hermione!" I shouted again pointlessly, as though I could will them both to me, "Dracohoho!" I tripped, my foot catching on the rubble littering the floor I staggered, barely keeping myself from being trampled I looked up, a sudden rush of coldness sweeping over me as I stilled, that other worldly breeze ghosting across the forefront of my brain as my second sight claimed me.

I was catapulted immediately into my vision. No messing about and no delay, as the air around me fell abruptly silent and I landed in the Great Hall. I could feel the people in the room around me, sense them, felt connected to them even though they made not a single sound, there was a fragile unity hanging about us, growing stronger by the second. However, despite that my attention was fixed on only one of the group. Standing right on the edge of the ring of bodies that encircled a wide open space at the centre of the hall I could see him clearly, standing a good distance to my right, was Draco. Pale faced but defiant he stood with trembling gravity as the last of the crowds parted to reveal him. And then, quick as a flash this scene was pulled away from me, I caught only the barest of glimpses of Draco's horrified face before I was plunged headfirst into another vision. Bodies surrounded me again, people were anxiously milling, trying to make their way forwards all around me, but I couldn't stop for them. Chest tight and my breathing loud in my ears I ran, tearing through the crowds as I fought to get to him, to reach where I knew he would be. Anticipation and fear rose up inside of me making me feel sick, but even then I didn't stop, a heavy metallic weight slipping down my nose, my vision blurring as the glasses I wore slipped, I didn't slow in the slightest. I had to go, had to run, had to get to him. This was it. And with that thought to world around me faded, ripped away from me just as swiftly as the other had been before one final future erupted before my Inner Eye.

I was back where I had started, in the Entrance Hall once more though I couldn't tell where, I didn't stop to look, a knowing dread trickled through me and automatically, as though expecting this to happen, I turned my head to the left, just in time to see a unaimed spell speeding towards me. Eyes widening as fear thrilled my heart there was no time to move, no time to think, all I could do was stand there as the green light finally reached me.

Surfacing I didn't have the time to gasp, didn't have the time to let my eyes adjust to the present before the crowd surged again. Swept forwards by the panicked masses I stumbled to a stop when we could move no more, only to feel dread prickle me suddenly, a nervous anticipation enhancing my senses. I didn't need to think, I knew with a dreadful certainty what was going to happen next, I had just seen it, and turning swiftly I acted on instinct. Adrenaline surging through me I swung my wand arm and cried, "Protego!"

The desperate words shot from my lips before I had even seen the jet of deadly green that shot before me, regardless of that though it was already seconds away from hitting me and as my shield sprang up before me, encompassing the people on my every side, my heart was caught in my throat. And then it made contact.

**Draco**

Torment, the word had had many meanings for Draco in the past two years, but never had it better described the way he felt. Caught in a swarm of sweaty, grimy bodies Draco had lost sight of Ivy, been torn away from her as the headstrong girl race on into the crowds without him, her heart ruling her head as usual. Growling in frustration Draco finally had enough, and with a resolution born of two years of not being in control of his own life, of what was happening to him, he charged forwards, forcing his way between bodies, almost knocking people aside in his haste to reach Ivy.

Her own foolishness would be the death of both him and her, she never listened to him, never stopped to think what would be best or safest, she just ploughed on without a care in the world, as though no one could hurt her! Admittedly that was one of the things Draco most admired about her, but that was irrelevant now; Draco knew full well just how vulnerable she really was. He had seen her, rushing off like she had before, just to save Patril, not a thought for her own safety, Ivy hadn't so much as seen the curses that had almost hit her, shot her way out of both accident and design. The thought of what might have happened if he hadn't been there actually made Draco's stomach roll, she was completely oblivious, when she got it into her head to run off and be a hero she was a danger to herself, and here Draco was, trapped behind a wall of foul, ripe imbeciles while Ivy was out there, probably getting herself killed. It was more than his tried, battered sanity could hope to take. All decorum was gone, all reserve and propriety forgotten, only one thing mattered now, and Draco was going to do everything in his power to get to her.

Barging forwards Draco attempted to push between two black cloaked figures, however, they didn't budge, Draco rebounded off the two mammoth men with a roar of rage. The Death Eaters, furious at the challenge turned, snarling profanities until they turned to spot Draco, then their gazes really darkened. Draco didn't recognise them, but then again he didn't have to, he might never have spoken one word to the either of them in his life but his family was well enough known in their circles for them to know exactly who he was. What was more, he knew his family was well enough despised as well, that their hateful expressions were no surprise.

"Watch where you're goin', Malfoy," The one on the right rumbled, reaching out with one beefy hand to shove Draco back, sending him careening into the people behind him, who no more wanted him near them than the Death Eaters did. Pushed back forwards Draco staggered towards the pair, rage and humiliation flushing his cheeks and anger swelling inside of him.

"'E said," the other thundered, both of them clearly looking for a fight, "watch where you're goin'!" and with a brutal swing of his fists sent Draco shooting sideways with a stinging punch.

Seeing stars as blinding agony caused his cheek to throb, Draco, banging into the disgusted crowd once more, managed to catch himself, only to see the thugs coming towards him again. "We'll av' to teach you a lesson then, Malfoy," the first one threated, grabbing hold of Draco by his shirt collar and pulling him upright so that he could snarl in the young blonde's face, "someone has to."

Draco, tears of pain and mortification threatening to spill from behind his eyes, met the Death Eater's furious gaze evenly, unwilling to finch or cower before him. Something was snapping inside of Draco in that moment, the thing that had kept him silent and dutiful all this time, what had allowed him to take the abuse of everyone else for the feelings that had landed him here, for being who he was, lost its hold on him and he refused to be treat like that again. Especially not by these cretins. He had more important things to do than be the scapegoat for their stupid grudge, and so letting every ounce of his rage and determination colour his features, Draco's fingers flexed around his borrowed wand, and he fought.

**Ivy**

I surfaced, gasping for air and disorientated, from yet another vision, heart racing I barely gave myself the time to look around me before I dove back into the crowds. There was room to move now, to act, and dodging in-between fighting, struggling wizards I tore towards my destination. Target in sight I narrowed my gaze and swung my wand.

"Stupefy!" I cried, directing my spell at a Death Eater about to prey on a Hogwartian boy, and watched with a good deal of satisfaction as he crumpled to the floor at the unsuspecting and completely stunned boy's feet. Convinced that this particular threat was gone I quickly turned away, lifting myself up onto my toes so that I could scan above the heads for my friends.

"Come on," I chanted, dropping back down to earth when I couldn't see them at all but refusing to give in, with nothing more than a desperate, anxious look around me I took off again, dodging diagonally through the throngs in an attempt to find someone. "Hermione!" I yelled, head whipping back and forth as I searched and ran, my shoulder stinging from where I collided with others in my haste, "Ron!" I was in the Great Hall now, and while the had crowds spread out and quietened mysteriously, the sound of commotion, of frantic duelling ahead of me and out of sight drowned out my cries. But still I carried on. "Neville!" I took a deep, steadying breath before I cried, "Draco!"

My breathing quickened as once again I heard no reply, chest rising and falling in a hysterical movement I fought to keep control of myself, to stay calm, but it was impossible. Where were they? Why couldn't I find them? Just about managing to keep my vivid imaginings about what was happening to my friends at bay I leashed my fear and sped up, searching with increasing energy, even while I trembled with the effort not to scream. I had to find them, to know what they were safe. However, once again my efforts were halted, and I wanted nothing more than to cry out in frustration as a ridged stillness overcame me, silencing my complaints, and before I could fume any more about it that otherworldly breeze ghosted across my brain once more, pulling me away from the present and sending me plunging into the future. And what waited for me there, tormented me all the more.

I was running again. Charging through the confused and frightened crowds herded here like cattle, my elbows swinging, barging with my desperate need to run, to reach him. The fabric, draped over my head and around my body, fluttered behind me as I ran, almost sliding off of me but I couldn't care, I just sprinted on, every single cell in my brain focused in on this one task. I could see him, a tall green head above the crowd of duellers, could see him as he waved his wand to attack someone out of sight, and at that one glimpse my feet needed no more urging, I couldn't have gone any faster had I tried. I was so close, almost there, finally, this would be over. Wretched from this scene with a familiar abruptness I was dumped immediately into another, I gathered myself, knowing full well what I was about to see. My location shifted, the Great Hall materialising around me with a strange finality and stillness that made me feel immediately uneasy. As with pervious visions, I turned. Exposed by a pathway through the crowds, was Draco, standing tall but clearly afraid under the scrutiny of the entire room, and one other, one other set of deadly scarlet eyes that I could sense but not bring myself to see. All there was, all that I could see, was Draco. As with before I felt the same connection to the crowd, the same amity, but there was something else there now, a hostility, aimed increasingly at the trembling blond that did not bode well. My connection with those about me severed instantly, in my vision I felt there intent, and in that moment it alienated me from them, and without needing a seconds thought, I moved.

With a dazzling quickness the noise and chaos of the present rushed back to me, assaulting my senses, but that wasn't what caused me to cringe. Groaning I screwed up my eyes and raked my hands through my hair. My visions, they didn't make sense! One was an impossibility, no doubt a delusion of some sort, and the other didn't even bare thinking! Lowering my hands, pressing them over my face in a much needed display of frustration and agony, I fought again to keep control of myself, to remember where I was and to keep a level head. However, losing my focus had been a stupid mistake, as no sooner had my hands left my face than they were yanked away from me by taloned hands wrapping around my wrist. For a moment my heart caught in my chest, my eyes didn't even have the time to adjust to what was going on as the hand wretched me around.

"WHERE IS HE?" Narcissa Malfoy shrieked as I span to face her.

Stumbling at the abrupt attack I felt my eyes widen as I came face to face with Draco's manic mother. Of all the Death Eaters and Malfoy's, Narcissa was the one I had least feared and least considered, she had never seemed to pose any kind of real threat and I had thought of her as a purely ornamental Death Eater, a lesser witch. However, in that moment I had never been more afraid of her. Narcissa Malfoy was a mess. Gone was the elegant, snobby witch I had seen before and in her place was a frantic, desperate creature, the formally sharp, dignified lines of a face that might have been pretty had she smiled more, were alarmingly feral and twisted now. She was every inch the deadly mother bear about two seconds away from tearing someone's head off. And she had me in her grip.

"WHERE. IS. HE?" she shrilled again over the roar of the crowds that engulfed us, as her nails dung into my flesh and she shook me to emphasise each word.

"Get off!" I snarled, pulling against her hold and trying to push off her vice like grip. Her touch grated against my every nerve, it brought back floods of memories that had me fighting not to cower in front of her. I couldn't look at her face but see her sister instead, and remember her dragging me down the corridors of Malfoy Manor to be tortured. Or worse, in the sharp lines of her face I saw her son's features mirrored back at me.

"What have you done to him?" she cried igniting my rage with her accusations in a way that little else could have, what had I done to HIM, she wanted to ask that question the other way around! However, before I could so much as transmit my indignation to my facial expression another blond erupted from the crowd.

"Narcissa!" Lucius Malfoy panted, his appearance just as dishevelled as his wife's but looking nowhere near as fierce as he staggered exhausted to a stop beside her. Narcissa paid no attention to him; her gaze was fixed squarely and threateningly on me, realising that she wasn't hanging dutifully on his every word Lucius followed his wife's gaze questioningly, until he spotted me. A sly grin twisted his features.

"Perfect," he sneered, turning from me to the woman beside him, "Narcissa, this is perfect! We have captured the Seer…the Dark Lord!... everything will be forgiven!" He rasped with excitement, his eagerness building with every syllable uttered to the point where he was actually bouncing on the balls of his feet with delight.

Not a chance, I thought, fingers flexing around the wand I had hidden behind my back and trying to think of a good spell, this had gone on long enough, and I wasn't about to let them take me back to Voldemort. I shifted on my feet and looked up at them both, Narcissa just as violent looking and oblivious to her husband as before, and Lucius looking like a kid in a sweet shop. I readied myself.

"Come, let us take her to him now, we mustn't waste a second!" Lucius said, reaching out to put a controlling hand on his wife's arm and move her towards their master.

"No!" Narcissa exclaimed, shrugging away from her husband's touch as her grip on me tightened reflexively. "She is not leaving my sight! She knows where Draco is, I know that she does." Narcissa snapped, tugging hard on my arm as her livid gaze bore into me. "This filthy, dirty temptress knows exactly where he is."

"Narcissa," Lucius coaxed, this voice pleading and his expression losing most of its child-like anticipation at his wife's disobedience. "Narcissa think about this, how richly we will be rewarded when the Dark Lord knows that we have captured the Seer!"

"I don't care!" she shrilled, whirling to face Lucius with a vengeance as he spoke so insensitively, "I only want Draco!" she insisted, and with that my wand arm stilled, I had been prepared to take full advantage of their distraction and make them pay for what they had done to me at Malfoy Manor, but those words stopped me. The female Death Eater's sincerity was obvious, tears glittered in eyes that so resembled Draco's and it gave me an unwelcome pause. "And she knows where he is!"

"I-" I started to say, feeling compelled to say something even though I despised the woman in front of me on principle, she just wanted to know that her son was safe, and as a woman desperately looking for the people she loved, I could sympathise. However, Lucius had other ideas.

"Narcissa-" he interrupted, going to chastise his wife but she was having none of it.

"Be quiet!" she snapped with venom before whirling back to face me, her features a mixture of expectance, hostility and desperation. However, I didn't get the chance to speak again, and Narcissa didn't get to hear that I didn't know where her son was, as in that moment the crowds moved again. Seemingly as one everyone in the hall took a step back, muttering filled the air as everyone nervously shifted, and with shoulders colliding with my chest and feet stepping on my toes, I was forced backwards.

"No!" Narcissa sobbed as the crowds tore me away from them, and I hissed as she tried to hang onto me, her nails leaving throbbing lines on my skin.

The crowd was thinning as it spread out but still I couldn't see far enough ahead to gage what was happening, and I knew that something big had to be, as everyone seemed to want to get out of the way. Pressed back against the wall I had enough of being pushed around, I refused to sit there clueless to what was going on and in a surge of energy brought on by indignation, forced my way through the crowds, once again abandoning my manners for the sake of progress. Something was going on, as I pushed between bodies I knew that something important was happening, it had to be, otherwise the crowds wouldn't have reacted like this and still stuck around to watch. Feeling dread trickle through me at what I might see when I reached the front, I ploughed on, redoubling my efforts. It had to be a duel, there was nothing else it could be, someone was duelling someone important and I shuddered to think what that might mean. Silence finally descended on the Great Hall as I neared the front of the crowds, just able to see two figures in the centre of the hall and to discern that one of them was Voldemort. His tall green head stood out atop the gathered masses and brought back memories of my visions, when I had been Harry running through the crowds. Heart catching in my chest I fought harder, picking up speed as voices reached me.

"Accidents!" I heard Voldemort yell, listening in on the conversation after its start as I didn't have a clue who he was talking to or what about, there was still one more line of people between me and the front, "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," those words reached me just as I broke through the last of the crowds and I stopped, my heart stilling at the sound of that familiar voice, of the strong, confident tones I had thought I would never hear again. Harry. "You won't be able to kill any of them, ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you hurting these people."

Barely able to comprehend what I was seeing and hearing I looked out across the Great Hall to see the last sight I had expected, though the one I ought to have. Harry Potter, bloody, dishevelled but very much alive, was facing Voldemort, his stolen wand drawn as the two circled each other in the centre of the ring the crowds had made around them. Neither made a move to attack the other, but both looked furious enough to lash out at any moment. My relief at seeing Harry alive was short lived, my friend was far from safe.

"But you did not!" Voldemort hissed at his opponent.

"I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?" Harry said to the complete and utter astonishment of the crowd, myself included, I couldn't believe what Harry had done for us, but at the same time I could, I would expect nothing less from him, but to have that kind of protection from the monster in front of us, I didn't think anyone dared to think it might be true.

"You dare-" Voldemort snarled in a fury.

"Yes I dare," Harry said, his tone unwavering, "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things you don't. Want to hear some before you make another mistake?"

Voldemort didn't answer immediately as he had before, the pair completed another slow, deadly circle, before he responded with a snide, "Is it love again? Dumbledore's favourite solution, LOVE, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the Tower and breaking like old waxwork? LOVE, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter – and no one seems to love you enough to run forwards and take my curse."

"Don't tempt them I have reckless friends." Harry said and I almost wanted to laugh at that, he no more had reckless friends than we did.

"So what will stop you dying when I strike?" Voldemort questioned him; seeming sure Harry had no answer.

"Just one thing," Harry said simply.

"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?" Voldemort asked, his tone increasingly patronising.

"I believe both," Harry said firmly, and standing on the opposite side of the room to him I could make out his features perfectly, Harry's determination was written clearly there and it didn't budge and inch, even when Voldemort let out a vicious, crazed laugh in response to his words, one that sent shivers thought the fighters around me.

"You think you know more magic than I do?" He asked, his tone the epitome of sarcasm, "than I, Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic Dumbledore never even dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done." Was Harry's speedy response and it didn't sit well with Voldemort.

"You mean he was weak! Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!" the monster's voice was devoid of all humour as he spoke now, there was a deadly menace to his words now that told me Harry was starting to push him.

"No, he was cleverer than you. A better wizard, and a better man." Harry continued with calm purpose, oblivious or indifferent to Voldemort's growing ire.

"I brought the death of Albus Dumbledore!" Voldemort bellowed loud enough for no one to miss.

"You thought you did, but you were wrong." Harry said quickly but clearly, whispering broke out then, as the whole crowd stirred at his words. Looking around I felt my own curiosity spark at what Harry had said, wondering if it could be possible.

"DUMBLDORE IS DEAD!" Voldemort yelled in what was almost desperation, "his body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes Dumbledore is dead, but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant." Harry said and the entire room fell silent once more. Eyes widening I couldn't believe what I was hearing, Snape and Draco had killed Dumbledore, we all knew that.

"What childish dream is this?" Voldemort asked, as confused as the rest of us.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours, Snape was Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realised it, because of the one thing you cannot understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus did you?" Harry asked boldly and everyone kept their silence, not even Voldemort had a response to this and while I tried to digest what I was hearing, to completely change my perspective on what had happened that night on the Astronomy Tower, the silver shadow of my own ferret Patronus danced tauntingly across my thoughts.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's because he loved her nearly his whole life, from when they were children. You should have realised. He asked you to spare her, didn't he?" Harry continued even as Voldemort dismissed his words.

"He desired her that was all and when she was gone he agreed there were other women of purer blood, worthier of him-"

"Of course he told you that, but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape killed him!" Harry revealed and I had to look away, frowning I focused my gaze on the wood panelled floor as this conversation made me increasingly uneasy, brought up thoughts I didn't even want to consider.

"It matters not! It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path!" Voldemort insisted, though from the frantic tone of his voice it was clear this knowledge had unsettled him, that he hadn't known where Snape's true allegiance had lain. "I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand." Voldemort said with vehemence as he thought he had regained the upper hand.

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy – I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it; I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!" Voldemort said in triumph.

"Yeah, it did." Harry conceded easily, even as the rest of us panicked over what Voldemort had just said, "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done…think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"

"What is this?" Voldemort asked, more shocked by Harry's words now than he had been by anything else so far. Confused I looked back up at the two of them; saw again Harry's confidence as he suggested that Voldemort do the one thing that would mend his mutilated soul, show remorse.

"It's your last chance, it's all you've got left…I've seen what you'll be otherwise…be a man…try…try for some remorse…" Harry said, goading his opponent who was growing more agitated by the second.

"You dare-?"

"Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle." Harry revealed and once more the crowd held its collective breath, and lost as to what Harry meant, what he was saying, I could only wait to hear like everyone else, with an odd sense of dread working its way through me.

"That wand still isn't working properly for you, because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore." Harry carried on to say while Voldemort shook his head in denial and shouted,

"He killed-"

"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!" Harry said and as he spoke I shifted on my feet nervously, the most unexplainable feeling of anxiety plaguing me. This wasn't good. This wasn't going to be a revelation I would like.

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole it from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!" Voldemort declared as the tension continued to build up inside of me, waiting for the bomb to drop.

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Olivander? The wand chooses the wizard…the Elder Wand recognised a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realising exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance…" Understanding, slow, dreadful understanding began to dawn on me and my stomach was already plummeting before I had even fully made sense of what Harry was saying.

"The true master is Draco Malfoy!"

I barely heard the words, Harry's voice was distant and far away as I immediately turned, instinct guiding me to follow the line of sight demonstrated in my vision, just as the crowd parted to expose Draco to Voldemort. They felt no shame in giving him up, they had no love for what they saw as just another Death Eater, but in spite of everything, of all that he had done to me and the hatred I professed for him, I couldn't let this happen. Just like in my vision I could see Draco clearly from where the fighters had stepped back, making an unblocked pathway between Draco and Voldemort, as the vile creature turned to glare at the blond. I could feel the hostility in the room, sense everyone's willingness to leave him, to let him suffer, and fool that I am I couldn't stand it. I started forwards without conscious thought, a force beyond reason making my legs move as I rushed across the room amidst the muttering of the crowd, my heart lightening with every step. I didn't think about what everyone would think, how could I? The thought didn't even begin to cross my mind, and I didn't even consider my own safety, the only thing that I could think about was that Voldemort would surely kill Draco for this. And coming to a stop at the end of the parted crowd, a good distance in front of Draco and between him and Voldemort, I wasn't about to let him be hurt.

Voldemort sneered and took a threatening step towards me, "You think you can stand between me and my destiny, Mudblood?" he asked, turning his wand on me.

"Probably not," I said in a firm, steely voice as I dropped into a duelling crouch, my stolen wand drawn, "but I will stand between you and him."

Voldemort laughed at that, a cruel, mocking laugh before he turned his back on me dismissively and focused again on Harry. I didn't relax in the slightest at this, if anything I grew tenser. "But what does it matter? Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone… and after I have killed you, I can attend to Malfoy and Jones."

"You're too late," Harry said, his gaze flicking over to me for a second before he continued, "someone else got there first, someone who at the time she won the wand's allegiance, would have killed Malfoy for you, or so she'd have said." Harry added, throwing a teasing smile in my direction that I all but missed in the wake of my shock at what he was saying, "When Ivy escaped Malfoy Manner the other week she took a wand with her, Malfoy's wand, and its allegiance, and that of the Elder Wand, switched to her."

"But she never won it! If what you say is true, Potter, Jones needed to disarm Malfoy and my reports say she never did." Voldemort yelled as their words washed over me, stunning me completely.

"No, but wandlore is a very complex thing, Riddle, just like the heart. I told you that Ivy would have killed Malfoy then, and she believed that she would have, because of everything that happened last year. Deciding to make Malfoy your second traitor within the school was one of your other big mistakes, because all of those things you made him do robbed him of what little else could have, Ivy's affection." Harry said loudly and I felt my cheeks colour, hating that they were discussing my past with Draco and unable to stand how it was being shouted about in the open. "At the time I doubt even Malfoy knew how much that meant to him, but I saw enough of him at Malfoy Manor the other month to know that he does now. Who do you think let Ivy go when she escaped from the Manor, who do you think has been doing everything in his power to protect her this past year? Just like with Snape and my mum, you turned Draco against you the moment you set your sights on Ivy."

"It makes no difference at all, I need only kill Jones to win the Elder Wand," he said, looking at the two of us, and under his scrutiny I held my head high and set my features firm, refusing so show fear despite my bewildered uncertainty. The serpentine man's gaze slid past me almost dismissively though, and focusing on Draco he added, "and if Draco loves her as deeply as you claim, I'll do him a kindness and allow him to join her in death."

I heard Narcissa's shout of horror as she undoubtedly fought her way through the crowds to get to her son, but I didn't waver at the sound of it any more than I had under Voldemort's deathly gaze, I stood exactly where I was, fixed in my mind as well as my stance. Willing Voldemort to try and make good of his threats.

"You could do that, but it wouldn't give you the wand's allegiance." Harry said and Voldemort rounded on him in an instant, before my friend seemed to shift topic entirely and said, "Tonight, when you sent Draco out to kill Ivy you not only chose his side for him, but gave Ivy the opportunity to get back at him for the hurt he caused her last year. A chance that she was never going to pass up. I disarmed her, preventing her from doing something she would regret. Does the wand in your hand know that its last master was disarmed? Because if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Voldemort reacted immediately, before my doubts and fears at Harry's claims could even set in, before I could so much as wonder if it were possible, Voldemort lashed out.

"Avada kedavra!" he bellowed and from the moment the desperate cry left his mouth terror griped my heart, so strong and fierce that its hold didn't lessen even as Harry swung his own wand on Voldemort.

"Expelliarmus!" he yelled, a jet of brilliant red light shooting from his wand just as an emerald one erupted from the tip of Voldemort's, seeming somehow feeble in comparison to the lethal spell. I started forwards again, the need to protect overcoming me even though there was nothing I could do, however, I hadn't taken more than a step when the two spells collided in a blast of noise and magic. Everyone cringed at the booming sound, but no one dared to look away as of for just a moment, the spells connected, forming a visible, shimmering link between the two enemies. This didn't last though, in the next instant, the hall watched in wonder as Voldemort's wand flew up out of his grip and soared across the room towards Harry, refusing to kill its rightful master, just as Harry had predicted.

Shock united everyone in the room, every single soul watched Voldemort's defeat in a complete state of disbelief, as Harry caught the Elder Wand in his outstretched hand and Voldemort crumpled backwards. It happened so fast that you would almost have missed it, Voldemort's death, one moment the tyrannical beast watched in disbelieving horror as his wand flew from his grip, the next he was landing gracelessly on the cold wooden floor. Dead. The room was silent, not a sound could be heard within the Great Hall as every eye turned to Harry, and my fearless friend, the hero to the wizarding world, just stood there, as though in a bigger state of shock than the rest of us, stared down at the two wands he held as though expecting them to vanish at any moment.

Standing there, watching Harry, I suddenly felt like laughing as a great weight and fear was lifted from my shoulders. It was over. Voldemort was dead, never to return. We were all finally safe! Letting my body slump in relief I gave into the urge and let an elated chuckle bubble up from my lips. I couldn't believe it, he was gone! The silence around me broke in cannon with my laughter, and like a wave of pure happiness and release, my fellow Hogwartians rushed towards Harry, Hermione and Ron leading the charge with Ginny, Neville and Luna coming up close behind. I half started to go and congratulate Harry, to share with him the immense joy that this year was finally over, that it was all finally over, but as the crowds engulfed my triumphant friend I decided not to, I had forever to celebrate with my friends, we were safe and free once again. So, smiling at the mob of grateful patting hands and excited voices that surrounded Harry, I turned automatically in search of the one person I needed to see right than more than any other.

Turning I found the formerly clear path between Draco and I obscured by celebrating fighters, streaming around me towards Harry, smiling and nodding I accepted their pats and congratulations though they hardly registered with me, I was too busy trying to see around the jubilant wizards, searching for just one. My stomach was in familiar knots even though the fear and dread had finally been lifted, my heart fluttered with the same unable emotions as regardless of my confusion over how I actually felt, I lent from side to side to try and see him, anxious for just one glance to tell me he was fine. Impatience pulled at me as I caught no sight of Draco, the well-wishing fighters still blocking my view, and I tugged restlessly at the chain around my neck, the emerald ring digging into my fingers and completely unable to remember when I had reached for it. The throngs thinned as everyone rushed by me to Harry, I could see the Death Eaters, keeping to the sides of the room, lost now without their master and cautious of what would happen next, but I couldn't see Draco with them. Anxiety setting in I was about to go and look for him, to hunt him down if he thought he was getting away that easily, but I was stopped when the last of the retreating Death Eaters moved to reveal Draco, standing seemingly exactly where he had been before, no longer obscured from view by everyone else around us. Looking at him I could hardly breathe around my heart, hovering around my throat, his blue gaze was fixed on me, his expression as defenceless as I had ever seen it, he looked tired and confused, but there was something else there, something firm and strong in the way he stood that spoke of pride. My want was automatic and instinctive, a need born of something not even reason could explain, something beyond even magic, drew me towards him like there was an invisible line connecting us. Then, in the wake of the horrors and battles of that night, I wanted nothing more than to be with him, and that was exactly what I wanted to do, what I had intended to do.

"Ivy!" an ecstatic voice called, and I turned, my bubble bursting around me, to see Seamus jogging towards me through the crowds of wizards and witches hugging and crying together, from where dozens of people were still swarming Harry, to swoop me up in a hug of his own. Squeezing me tight my friend span me around in his jubilation, before setting me back down on my feet and saying, "well done, love."

Slightly dizzy I looked up at him, sporting a busted lip and a cut through his eyebrow Seamus had never looked happier. Grinning at his infectious attitude even though there was still a niggling at my heart, that frayed rope tugging at me to turn; I gave him another hug before he ran off to congratulate someone else. Giving in to the urge to turn I span back around, my gaze immediately searching for Draco amongst the students running through the hall, but as my eyes skimmed over the area where he had been stood and found it empty, I felt my heart plummet. He was gone, looking around the room I took a few steps forward, my determination willing me to do something but my brain offering up no ideas, he wasn't anywhere in the Great Hall and rubbish though he was at apparition he could be anywhere by now, the protective enchantments were down. Even still, logic didn't win out and before I could stop myself I ran towards the Entrance Hall, sure that if he had walked out I would be able to see him from there. However, stopping by the shattered oaken doors, looking out into the rubble strewn room, I couldn't see him anywhere.

**Author note: First off I'd like to start with a proper apology, believe me, I really am sorry, it's just that life seemed to get in the way for a while and I got incredibly behind with this, take last week for example, I managed to get from the second Ivy pov all the way to the end of Harry's fight with Voldemort, in one single evening, but then one of my research assignments reached a critical level and I had a load of assessments at uni, so I haven't been able to finish it until today, and even now I should be doing something else. However, despite the long wait I have always intended to update and I fully intend to see this story through to the end, I love it too much not to, so I will definitely be updating again.**

**On another note a lot of new Losing Sight stuff has popped up of late, stuff I can't wait to share with you guys. Firstly, xbubblesx3o18x has made an amazing cinematic poster for Ivy in the style of the Deathly Hallows posters, which you can all access though a link on my profile, thanks again for that love. And, the Losing Sight trailer, which has been in the works for a few months now, has been completed by the lovely vidder NikkiandHolly17, which again you can access by a link on my profile or by typing "Losing Sight, Draco and Ivy" or some such sentence, into Youtube. I'd be very grateful if you could look and give your opinions on these, both people worked very hard of these for me and I'd love for you to see them.**

**Thanks again for your patience with me, hopefully I'll have something else for you soon. x**

**Review replies:**

**Ellie: Glad to hear you liked it love, and Sheffield uni. xxx**

**Anon: Muchas gracias por la revisión, contenta de que hayas disfrutado. (Yes, that is very poor Spanish) xxx**


	40. Revelations

**Author note: Right, I'm saving all apologies, excuses and shameless grovelling until the end, nothing else is going to get in the way of this chapter. On with the much delayed continuance…**

**Chapter forty: Revelation**

**"That's the trouble with intrigue, isn't it? With so many secrets, you can never quite tell who's on who's side, until the game ends." Paulet (Elizabeth, the Golden Age)**

**Ivy**

It was with a disconcerting abruptness that I landed back in the present. Confusion and indecision assaulting me instantly, I felt the need to move, to do something, but found my feet rooted firmly to the spot. Immoveable. I wanted desperately to react to what I had just seen but didn't know how to, the futility of the past telling me that there was no point to, but every part of me screaming at me to move. Taking a ragged breath I closed my eyes, a vain attempt to calm myself. This was why, in spite of all the trouble it caused me, I preferred the future; when I had a vision there was always time, however short, to do something, to try and change things. But with this, there wasn't any, there was no way to change what I has just seen, nothing to make it better and that only left me frustrated.

Unsure of what to do, recovering from old memories looked at in new light, from the very last thing I had expected to see when I was summoned up here, my emotions were now twice as confusing as they had been before, and I was at a loss. Cheeks flaming from the uncomfortable past, I refused to acknowledge this yet, to speak with the person who had shown me this, and turning swiftly away I found myself staring into bottomless silver depths instead, swirling in the basin bellow with beautiful mockery. I frowned, all this time I had been wondering, trying to unlock the secrets hidden in there, sure they had some great importance, that they wouldn't have been left to me for no reason, but now I felt the most perturbing sense of defeat and disappointment, the most anxious unrest tugging at my heart. I certainly hadn't expected this, that the vial I had so desperately wanted to open, held the secrets I least wanted to accept. It was a good job I was only just seeing this now, had I found this out before I don't know what I'd have done. Spurred on by a curiosity and confusion that bordered on anger I turned again, leaving the crafted basin, ornate vial still clasped tightly in my hand and asked,

"Where did you get them from?" my voice even and steady, though my tone gave away my unsettledness.

"From friends," Dumbledore said reassuringly from behind the window of his portrait, though his words did nothing to settle me, I felt increasingly aggravated for no clear reason. It was ridiculous, but I felt very much rubbed up the wrong way by this, and trying to manage my unreasonable emotions I folded my arms across my chest and walked closer to the old headmaster. "From myself of course, as you saw I was present at several of those occasions, but other people also wished to help you, though some required more persuading than others." Dumbledore admitted, with a fond smile.

"Why?" I asked quickly, almost afraid of what his answer might be.

"Well, let us just say that some people didn't see the good those memories would do you, Hagrid and the Fat Lady were particularly convinced that remembering how things were with Dra-" Dumbledore began to explain, but cringing internally I swiftly cut him off.

"That wasn't what I meant, sir." I said, halfway agreeing with Hagrid and the Fat Lady's thoughts on those memories, right now I wished that I had never seen them.

This time, Dumbledore's smile was indulgent, "No, it wasn't. But can you not guess why? Why I thought it was so important for you to see those memories?"

A image surfaced then, bubbling up in my mind's eye to torture me, it wasn't a vision, I wasn't fortune enough for that, though I could honestly say I had never thought to think of my visions as something to be glad of. I did then though as the long shunned images assaulted me, the cheery yellow glow of daffodils brightened the edge of my memory, the only spark of colour in a remembrance my mind had dubbed as bad and so converted to black and white, adding a sinister sense to the hospital scene as I stood beside the cot bed and stared down at the pale figure beneath the sheets, my heart heavy. Flinching I pulled myself from the memory roughly, and with a determination born of denial I lifted my gaze to meet Dumbledore's and said, "I can't honestly say that I can." Agitated I didn't stop there, however, "To tell you the truth, sir, when Harry called me up here I thought it was going to be about something important, but if this is all…." I ended with an exasperated wave of my arms.

"All?" Dumbledore asked himself musingly, "Yes, I suppose you could think of it as all, it certainly is all there is." Dumbledore said looking back up at me with another one of his smiles and I wanted to groan in frustration, the portrait of my old headmaster must have sensed this as he added, "but enough of that. You asked me why I thought it was important for you to be reminded of your feelings for Draco," I winced, and angry with myself for the motion quickly wrapped my arms around myself and turned away slightly, but Dumbledore had seen. "It is partly for yourself…" he said in a gentle tone that had me spinning back to face him, my expression wide open in disbelief.

"For myself?" I repeated, insidious, I had spent the past year trying to forget the traitorous toe rag I had mistakenly given my heart to, what good could it possibly do me to remember how much of an idiot I had been that year?

"…and partly for Mr Malfoy as well." Dumbledore concluded and I felt myself snap then.

"For him? Why the bloody hell should I have to suffer to remember all that for his benefit? It's a good job he's swanned off already; otherwise I'm sure he'd be having a good laugh about this!" I snapped, unable to believe what I was hearing and feeling the most annoying pain in my chest.

"He's gone?" Dumbledore asked me sympathetically.

"As soon as the battle was over," I said, more to my shoes than to Dumbledore as I remembered looking for him after the battle only to find that he'd already vanished, after all I had risked to protect him, "he and his family are probably half way to France by now – but what does that matter?" I asked, getting wound up again, "I don't care, I just want to know why this is important? What good has it done me to see this?"

"More than I imagine you know right now," Dumbledore said and I eyed him doubtfully, "you saw all the memories?" he asked and though I was sure he knew the answer already I nodded, Dumbledore smiled approvingly, "Then you saw everything from another perspective, from each other's and from an outsiders, your own feelings and those of Mr Malfoy will be clearer to you now."

Feeling a tug on my heart I felt my memory drawn to one particular scene from the vial, of Draco in the Great Hall, watching me carefully as I learned of Ron's poisoning, and racing after me as distressed I went to find him. I had always known that Draco had followed me that day, he'd found me and we'd argued as normal, so of course I knew, but there was something different in that memory, a new light in which it had been cast, and it niggled at me. Quickly deciding I ought not to care I abandoned the memory and focused again on Dumbledore. "But what good does it do me to remember how I used to feel about him? That was a year ago, before he decided to sell us all down the river…or at least, before I knew he had." I added in self condemnation before trying to redeem myself from that and firmly saying, "I've gotten over that childish fantasy since then."

Dumbledore looked at me pointedly over his half-moon spectacles, but said nothing of my last comment, "I believe that you received some letters this year?" Dumbledore asked me, and startled I felt myself frown.

"Letters?" I asked, thrown by the sudden change of topic.

"Yes, warnings I believe they were, anonymous letters that alerted you to danger." He explained an odd twinkle in his eyes that I almost missed.

"Yeah, I did actually," I replied, remembering the letters I had been sent, both on the night of Bill and Fleur's wedding and that night in Godrick's Hollow. "Forgive me, sir, but what does that have to do with this?"

"They are part of the explanation you sought, as to why you needed to see those memories. Though at the time of course, Mr Malfoy had yet to see them, we can only be glad of the strength of his emotions." Dumbledore explained and wrapped up completely in one issue I didn't hear the last part at all as I said,

"Malfoy's seen them too?" though shrilled might have been a better word to describe the noise I made at that.

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed and it looked as though he might have gone on but I didn't let him, chest heaving, cheeks flaming and refusing to believe that my previous soppy behaviour had not only been witnessed by me, but also by the very man it was directed towards, who had most likely been oblivious to it the first time around.

"How?" I asked with more than a hint of desperation to my tone, "He shouldn't have been able to, the vial only opens when I tell it to." I said, recalling the night, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I had spent trying to open the thing, still labouring under the delusion that it would actually be useful.

"You are only half right I'm afraid, Ivy," Dumbledore told me, not a hint of apology in his tone or expression, "the vial only opens for you and one other. Draco Malfoy is the other viewer of these memories; it is only fair after all, as they chiefly feature the both of you."

Seething I fought to restrain myself, though I couldn't hide the way my breath came out in an angry hiss before I began to speak, "He's seen them?" I asked, unable to stomach the idea but having to ask, "Everything that I've just watched, he's watched them too?"

"A month or so ago, Draco watched the very same memories you just have, yes." Dumbledore confirmed and I felt my stomach sink, could this conversation perhaps get any worse? Then an idea stuck me.

"How did you know he'd get them?" I asked quickly, almost like I was testing the old Headmaster, trying to trip him up. "You left them to me, how could you possibly know that he would ever get them, and that if he did he'd even watch them, I've only just had the chance to."

Dumbledore's smile was once again indulging, as he went to answer me, "It may seem to be quite a long shot, I understand how you might think that, but I can say with a certain amount of pride that I knew better. It was always going to happen, that the two of you would find yourselves together again was always a certainty, of that I never had any doubt. Of Mr Malfoy watching the memories, that too was never a fear of mine, the temptation of finding out what recollections were so precious to you that you kept them with you physically I was sure he'd never be able to resist." I let out a very loud and heart felt groan at that, but his smile widening Dumbledore just continued, "I watched him, though the boy was so enthralled with seeing your memories he didn't seem to notice me. He raced out of here with the same haste as he entered with; it would seem that what he saw prompted more of a reaction than merely sending you love letters." Dumbledore said, chuckling a little at his own joke, while something began to register with me.

"Draco sent the letters?" I asked, making the connection for the first time.

"As I said, we can only be grateful for the strength of his emotions, when Professor Snape informed me of this I was quite surprised, though I suppose I needn't have been." Dumbledore said in a way that seemed almost absentminded, however I was starting to cynically suspect that it wasn't at all.

Indignation rising again as Dumbledore spoke so easily over such an impossibility I was both sharp and abrupt in discounting the ridiculous idea, "Well Professor Snape must have told you wrong, because that's not even remotely possible, there's no way on heaven or earth that Malfoy would have written me those warning letters."

"And why would that be?" Dumbledore asked, gently probing, but my answer was quick and sure.

"Voldemort would have killed him, helping me would have been helping Harry and there's no way he would have gotten away with that. Besides, he doesn't have it in him to help people, and he never warned me before when he watched my world crumble around me." I said swiftly, blushing bright red as I realised the patheticness of my final statement.

"Was the handwriting not familiar to you?" Professor Dumbledore asked me simply and thinking back to the elegant, if hasty, style of the letters I could only nod.

"Yes," I confessed, the handwriting had seemed familiar.

"And did Draco not aid you in your escape of Malfoy Manor?" He asked bluntly and although I had half convinced myself that my friends were right and I had only been deluding myself, I knew what I had seen and felt, knew that no one else could have done it.

"Yes, I believe he did." I said, this admittance taking more effort than the first but no less true.

Dumbledore smiled, "and you also acknowledge that there were few others with Voldemort's inner circle who would have an interest in keeping you safe?" again the answer was yes, the Death Eaters and I weren't exactly on speaking terms and I was sure that none of them would have stuck their neck out for me, and there was no way anyone less important than Draco could have been privy to that kind of information. But still, I couldn't bring myself to admit that out loud.

"He's a Death Eater!" I exclaimed in a growl of frustration as I span around and began to pace rapidly, "He let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, he endangered everyone, he LIED to me, for a whole year and ran off to join his brethren torturing Muggles and killing innocents. What does it matter if he felt a little guilty and warned us?" I asked the former headmaster, "What difference does it make?"

Ever serene Dumbledore ignored my agitation and spoke in a calm voice despite my ever increasing franticness, "It makes as much of a difference as you allow it to," he said and I picked up my pace at that, because that was exactly what I was afraid of. My heart was racing at the mere possibility that Draco had been the one to send me those letters, my control on myself was slipping and I was terrified that would make all the difference.

"This is cruel, you know," I said, losing some of my thunder as I came to a stop, again facing the old headmaster, "telling me this."

"It would be far crueller towards you both, if I hadn't told you." Dumbledore said and I shook my head at that.

"I don't want to forgive him," I said, hating that I was confessing the fear that had been growing inside of me since I had first seen those memories, "I can't let myself forgive him."

"I'm afraid that is part of human nature," Dumbledore observed unhelpfully, his tone distant, "to forgive the ones we love."

"I don't love him," I snapped, quick to deny that accusation.

Dumbledore laughed then, a brief, honest chuckle as though I were a child who had just said the moon was made of cheese, "You may tell yourself that, you and Mr Malfoy are both gifted in the art of deceiving yourselves, of teaching yourselves to be blind to the things you do not want to see. But all of this would not have worked out half as well had that statement been true."

With an offense that masqueraded embarrassment I bristled at Dumbledore's words, and rather than face the emotions raised by them, instead latched upon something he had said. "All of this?" I asked, my tone more than a little harsh though I hardly noticed my disrespect as this thought took hold of me, "You planned all of this?"

"Planned implies a lot more premeditation than I applied, but the situation certainly worked in my favour, yes." Dumbledore said politely but I hardly heard a word of it as I finally found an outlet, someone beside myself to blame for all of this.

"You did this? You're the reason I fell for him? You tricked us just so that you could use this to your own advantage!" I yelled, furious beyond measure and not thinking straight in the least as I advanced towards Dumbledore's painting.

"Ivy," Dumbledore said, his voice not quite stern but missing the jovial lightness there had been before, as my agitation grew once more, "listen to me now, because it is important that you understand this," conflicted and sure that I'd rather be anywhere else listening to any other admission than what I was hearing now, I turned reluctantly back to face Dumbledore, "I never encouraged your affections for Mr Malfoy," with a noise of self-disgust I turned away again at that, "I never meddled with your emotions, it was never in my power to and never my intention, but yes, I will admit that I welcomed them. Because unwittingly the two of you, from the very first time you met, ensured each other's safety." Confused I felt my eyes drawn back again to the infuriating and curious portrait at these words.

"I see you do not understand," Dumbledore noted, seeing my expression, "or perhaps you simply don't want to, but I'm afraid Ivy that it is time for you to, as they say, face the facts. That you have, in spite of everything that you have said to me and everything you profess to believe, done everything in your power to save Draco Malfoy." I opened my mouth, eager to deny this claim because it simply wasn't true, I'd hated Malfoy this year, I'd have killed him as soon as look at him if he'd ever been unlucky enough to emerge from the forestry, of that I was sure. However, Dumbledore didn't give me time for my denial; he simply raised a wizened hand" and said, "Ah, allow me to stop your contradiction, as it would be a false one. I have just spoken with Harry, and he has told me everything. If I was wrong, and you did not care for Mr Malfoy, you would not have risked your life by standing between him and Voldemort, when he realised who the true master of the Elder Wand was."

It struck me then to argue, to profess my hatred for Malfoy, to deny it all and to curse Harry for telling on me, but the need for an answer was suddenly niggling away at me, overcoming all other issues as I asked one of the questions that had been bothering me.

"About that, Professor, I don't understand." I said reaching into my pocket to withdraw the hawthorn wand, "How could I possibly have won the Elder Wand from Draco, how could I have been its master? I never disarmed him; I snatched the wand from the floor for goodness sakes! But still it works perfectly for me." It was the same question I had asked Mr Olivander the other week, more or less, and as I asked it again the wandmakers response drifted through my mind. _"I can only assume that the bond you share with this particular wand is deeper and more complex than we can understand. That it is a connection that cannot be explained by known magic, or is a power beyond that of magic."_

Shivering at those ominous words I looked up at Dumbledore expectantly and felt a twinge of nerves when I noticed his smile was back. "It is not an uncommon find," Dumbledore said, adopting the air of a teacher as he spoke, "that married couples, families, and partners, can share the use of each other's wands. A wand doesn't need to be won for its allegiance to go with its master's beloved, it's a rather sweet form of protection I find." Dumbledore said his tone endeared but I was horrified by what he was telling me.

"But I asked Mr Olivander," I said, desperate to find a hole in this unnerving theory, "I asked him why the wand worked for me and he said he didn't know, that he'd never seen anything like it, if it was something so ordinary as what you say, surely he'd have known!"

"Mr Olivander, is most likely well aware of this type of connection, you are right," Dumbledore admitted but I felt no satisfaction from this, as I could already sense the but that was coming, "however, he would never have thought to make the link between a protective measure for a wizard's family and you and a wand you had stolen from Mr Malfoy, I am sure. As I said, the two of you have been very good at covering up your feelings."

"Great," I snapped, still exhausted from battle and humiliated right to my very core, "so we've proved I'm pathetic, that I'm stupid enough to risk my life for someone who betrayed me, is that everything now, or do you perhaps want to tell me that I look fat in this, or that Harry, Ron and Hermione have only been pretending to be my friends all these years, on your instructions?" Dumbledore chuckled at my misplaced wit but soon sobered as he spoke.

"You should never be ashamed to love; it's what's kept you and Mr Malfoy safe this past year."

"Really?" I said doubtfully, sinking into a nearby chair and resting my chin on my hands to pout, "Because it looks to me like all it's done is rob me of my dignity. Love's not a proud creature then, I take it?"

"No," Dumbledore laughed, "it would seem not. But pride never did anyone any good, least of all the two of you, if you had both kept your pride you would still be sitting in the basement of Malfoy Manor and Draco would still be a Death Eater."

"He still is," I said, sitting up a little in determination, "there's no coming back from that."

"Of course there is," Dumbledore disagreed happily, "others have before him, and a good deal more will now. Besides that, Draco Malfoy stopped being a Death Eater the moment he sent you that first letter, and he shunned that part of his life with every action he took to save you since."

We sat in silence for a moment, me feeling the full weight over everything I had just learned laying heavy on my shoulders, everything I had been trying to ignore, and Dumbledore carefully unwrapping a toffee coloured sweet he'd taken from his robes pocket. I signed. "What am I supposed to do now?"

I felt exhausted, the madness of the past twenty four hours suddenly all the more notable as the last of the adrenaline began to leave my system, shattered I ached all over, had more cuts and bruises than I could begin to count and was still grimy with sweat, blood and soot. I wanted to go, to just walk about of the room, head up to the Gryffindor Tower and collapse in my old bed, draw the curtains shut around me and pretend the world didn't exist for a while, to just ignore all of this. I couldn't do that though, it was the morning after the night that had changed everything, there was lots to be done, and I knew I had to start with this.

"That is entirely up to you, Ivy," Dumbledore said, his expression gentle but his gaze serious as he looked out at me, "You know everything I know now, everything I can tell you, what you choose to do with that information is your choice. However, I trust you will do what is right."

"You've got an awful lot of faith in me; you never heard the expression about a woman scorned?" I chuntered sarcastically, dropping my head back down to rest in my hands, and Dumbledore's smile widened at that.

"Indeed I have, and a wonderfully disparaging Muggle saying is too," Dumbledore commented, "though it always makes me wonder what good a woman, with that fire, might be capable of if she turned that ferocity towards some other challenge."

Disarmed by Dumbledore's unexpected response I lifted my chin a little from my hand as a cold feeling of uneasiness went through me at the astuteness of the comment that cut a little too close to the truth of me from my liking. I felt completely and utterly exposed by the entire conversation, as though I had nothing left to hide behind, the walls I had been so carefully constructing around myself all year, separating me from what had happened and the flaws in myself that I wanted to forget, had vanished into thin air, as though they had never been there at all. All of my secrets, everything I thought I had been hiding and dealing with well, was in reality out there for everyone to see, and I couldn't stand it. Lost more in sheer emotion rather than thought memories chased though my head as we again sat in silence, old ones, shunned ones, guilty ones, as I tried to decide upon my next step. I was still sat like this, almost hovering in the elegant chair, eyes fixed in the middle distance, as the door to the Headmasters Office clicked open. I didn't jump at the sound, didn't turn to look, I only narrowed my gaze in concentration as someone entered.

"Oh," a masculine sound of surprise reached me, bringing me out of my thoughts and back into the room, I turned to see Kingsley, battle warn but still as composed and capable looking as ever, standing halfway inside the office, "I didn't see you there, Ivy. The Order and I are putting together an emergency ministry, to put in place some safeguards until more permanent arrangements can be made. We were going to use this office as our gathering place."

"Yeah, come on in, I'm about to head back down now anyway," I said, blinking away the last shadows of memories as, pushing myself to my feet, I made up my mind. There was a debt to be repaid here, no amount of conversation would let me forget that, and I was going to make sure it was exacted in full. "Thanks Professor," I said, looking over at Dumbledore, even though I still wasn't sure that I couldn't have lived at least a little longer, quite happily, without knowing this.

"I look forward to seeing what our woman can do," Dumbledore replied, with a knowing smile.

Still unsettled by what I had learnt and what I was about to do, but feeling my newfound resolve strengthening me, I turned and headed across the office towards Kingsley, keeping the Pensieve firmly out of my line of sight as I did so. This was the right thing to do, he deserved nothing less, I told myself firmly, but still a defiant part of me screamed at me to reconsider.

"Ivy," Kingsley said as I approached, "would you and your friends like to sit in on the meeting? You'd be most welcome, Merlin knows you've all earned your right to a say in what happens next."

I was both relieved and disappointed to hear him say those words, but keeping those emotions clear of my face I stopped next to him, my body facing the door and my escape, and turned to look up at him. "I think I can speak for everyone when I say thanks, but no thanks. I just want to take a step back for a moment if that's alight, and I doubt you'll need our help." I said in a distressingly quiet and calm voice, hardly even hearing the words that were coming out of my mouth as I itched to run for the door, my heart swelling with dread as I drew a shaky breath.

'Don't do it, he doesn't deserve it,' the voice in my head pleaded but it was too late.

"Kingsley," I said quickly, before I could change my mind, "could I just ask you something?"

**Author note: I'm caught between two emotions right now guys, guilt and the need for approval, honestly, I feel like a little girl who's been caught with her hand in the biscuit tin but is trying to convince her mum it doesn't matter because she's FINALLY done her homework. In all seriousness though, I'm so sorry that its taken me this long, I never intended it to, literally the day after my last update I sat in the train station in the morning scribbling down the start of this chapter, but I don't know, it kind of fizzled out. I simply haven't found the time to do much to it until recently, I've just been adding odd bits here and there, what with placement, uni, Christmas, work, all that rubbish, I've let this chapter go on forgotten. It's been forever since I last updated and I'm so ashamed, but hopefully you can forgive me...pleeeeaaase. This chapter wasn't the best, I know, but I felt it was necessary, its ground work for what I've got planned in the penultimate chapters (and yes, there is meant to be an 's' on the end of that, we're not quite finished here yet), and I felt like I needed to explain one or two things, so hopefully I did.**

**Once again, I'm so sorry guys, I don't want this to happen again.**

**Anonymous Review Replies:**

**Naii: Thank you for being understanding, I can only hope you are this time as well. I loved comparing Draco to Snape, and I'm glad you did too, I've been working it in in both stories and have always had a grin on my face when I did.**

**Misakininja11: Thank you so much for such a lovely review, I am so glad that you like this story and Ivy and Draco.**

**My Spanish Reviewer: Haha, thanks, but your English is better than my Spanish ;)**

**Fredweasleylover: Thanks so much for the review, glad you liked it.**

**Aoi: Aww, thank you, sorry to disappoint you though, Ivy hasn't done any running just yet, but there's still some time.**

**Pint-Sized Wolf: Well, what can I say to you, honestly, I think I owe the fact that this chapter is up now to you. You were the much needed kick up the backside that got me finishing this chapter. Thank you very much for such a lovely and motivating review, I'm thrilled to hear that you enjoyed the story so far and got so engrossed in it, its every writers dream no matter what level they're at, so thanks. Hopefully you, and everyone else, will forgive my horrible lateness.**


	41. Forgiveness

**Chapter Forty-One: Forgiveness**

**"Now that the world isn't ending, its love that Im sending to you.**

**It isn't the love of a hero, and that's why I fear it won't do." - Nickelback, Hero**

**"Forgiveness is the best part of valour...Discretion is easy. It's finding the courage to forgive yourself and others that is hard."**

**— Sherrilyn Kenyon**

**Draco**

Heat, steady gentle warmth, brushed up against Draco's side, curving itself to the shape of his limbs like a soft, lingering caress, and the frowning blond cringed at the unwanted touch. The pleasant heat chilled him to the bone, made his blood run cold and his body tremble with this new fear. The cheery warmth of the fire crackling in the grate, felt to Draco like a roaring inferno as it wrapped its self around his flesh, he could feel the heat of that terrible blaze, and breaking out in a cold sweat of nerves found himself longing to tug at his suddenly damp and too tight shirt collar, but refused to. It was only memory, a dreadful recollection of his time in the Room of Requirement, when he had thought for sure that he would die, but it plagued him. Draco couldn't stand being too warm these days; he couldn't abide by the heat, and hadn't lit a single fire in the manor since his return almost a month ago, until today. Uncomfortable though he was, Draco did not spring from his chair and douse the wretched flames, as every fibre in his body was screaming at him to do; he simply sat there in determined silence, watching the flames dance in the fireplace out of the corner of his eye.

_ "RUN, IVY, RUN!"_

A long, shuddering exhale stumbled out of the blonde's lips, a vain and half-hearted attempt to ground himself. The memories would win, Draco knew by now that they would, and when, with the flickering of the flames in the corner of his eye, a new memory surged, he made no move to fight it.

_Sweat, slick and grimy, formed a heavy film over his flesh, weighing him down. Smoke, thick in the air all around him, invaded his mouth with every breath, such a violation that Draco wanted nothing more than to stop and rid himself of this poisonous intruder, he didn't though, he couldn't, to stop now would be fatal. So, lungs and skin aflame with heat, limbs trembling and soul shaken, Draco carried on, his nails scraping and splintering against the rickety wooden bookshelf as he climbed. He had to reach higher ground, every beat of his frantic heart told him to, even though his oxygen starved brain had no idea why, it clung to that one hope. A sob, unheard against the roar of the fire, escaped his lips as he clawed his way onto the top of the bookshelf and the wardrobe it abutted, the smoke curling away in his blood willed him to stop now, to rest a while and sleep, but he didn't, whimpering he dragged himself back around and helped haul Goyle up onto the wardrobe._

_He stopped then. Sitting back on his knees, panting for clean air he couldn't get, Draco looked around him, almost numb to the horrific sight before him, to the fire raging around the room, destroying everything in its path and enclosing them, in truth in the smoky haze he hardly saw a thing, his eyes refused to and as dull panic set in Draco didn't know what to do. He stood, the wardrobe rocking ominously as he did, but trembling he hardly reacted, he was slipping fast now, forgetting things, who he was, why he was here, why it was so important they reach the top of this wardrobe in the first place, he didn't know what to do._ In the comfortable confines of Malfoy Manor, Draco shuddered, horrified by this, by how vulnerable he had been then, how lost the smoke had made him, sure that he would have done something reckless soon after, had fate not intervened.

_Relief was slow in coming, when he had seen the brooms approaching, seen Ivy, but come it did, and after what felt like an eternity just staring at her, with her arms wrapped tightly around Potter, Draco was franticly waving his own to try and get their attention. Her hands, as hot and clammy as his own, soon found him, and with her face contorted with equal parts frustration and determination, she had rescued him from the flames._

Even in these moments, when the nightmares of that night overtook him, Draco could still feel the touch of her hands on his flesh, could still feel the sensation of his arms wrapped around her as they flew for their lives. And as they left the fire behind and the cool of the night air replaced the searing heat of the blaze, he could still remember the hope he had felt then, the hope that she might still care for him after all.

_Draco walked on trembling legs towards Ivy, the world swaying with each staggered step he took, following as she distanced herself from the rest of them. He didn't know what he meant to do, his emotions hadn't thought that far ahead, but after everything, after how close they had all come to death and what she had risked for him, he had to see her. This bubble burst so suddenly it left Draco reeling, one moment Ivy had stopped and was holding her hand to her head, the next she collapsed. Horror-struck Draco could only watch as she fell, and before he could regain control of himself, Potter was already by her side, smoothing down her hair, his face pinched with concern. Sick, Draco watched this from a short distance that suddenly made him feel worlds away; he didn't move at all as Granger and Weasley rushed to her side, he only stood there, watching Potter do what he could not_.

Draco swiftly turned away from the fire, his faced turned pointedly in the opposite direction, unable to take any more of his memories and his piteous jealousy, which still churned viciously in his stomach. Like the horrors of that night, this too was something he couldn't escape. However, as soon as Draco turned, staring out into the distant shadows of the room, he felt another emotion suddenly seize his heart, fear. Draco jumped in his chair, his blood turning to ice as a hooded figure took shape in the shadows, skeletal arm outstretched and reaching. In the time it took for the terrified boy to let out a cry of horror the figure vanished, disappearing into the blackness, a cruel hallucination and a frequent tormentor. Desperately trying to regulate his breathing, mortified by his constant reaction to his nightly visitor, Draco cursed himself for forgetting to light the lamps as, still trembling, he gripped tightly at the chair arms and fought to calm himself. It was no use though, his heart was hammering in his chest, his pulse racing, and his mind reeling.

_A strangled gasp gurgled past his lips, as legs kicking and hands grasping, Draco fought against the hand around his throat and the memories assaulting him from all sides, but it was no use, his feet banged painfully against the wall, wrapped up in the Dementors ragged cloak, and his hands clawed uselessly against its iron grip. Fear, like ice, flooded his veins, as a deep panic and sense of futility filled him, he couldn't do it, he couldn't escape, he didn't know the spell. Weak under his hopelessness and the memories filling his head, Draco had half given up when he heard the most wondrous sound in the world._

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

_The next thing he knew a blinding shock of pain shot through the back of his skull, air rushed into his oxygen starved lungs, only to be knocked out of him again as he crashed to the floor with a jarring thud. Opening his eyes Draco looked down the corridor, his stomach twisting and his heart hovering in spite of his injuries as he saw her there, Ivy, her determined expression lit by a silvery glow as she lowered her wand. Pushing himself up off the stone floor, dizzied by the many emotions swirling around inside of him, Draco was still staring in disbelief at the ethereal sight before him as a silver streak of light shot past him, zooming towards Ivy. In a sudden, protective instinct Draco's thoughts shot to his fallen wand, until the light slowed to veer off and circle Ivy, the fierce brunette's expression softened, and he realised what it was. Her Patronus, the very reason he was still alive, however, it wasn't this thought that held him, stunned on the corridor floor. It was the Patronus, affectionately nuzzling Ivy's cheek, still now its shape was apparent for the first time. It was not Ivy's faithful pup floating victoriously beside her, it was a ferret_.

Draco was on his feet in an instant, shooting out of his chair as though he could physically distance himself from his memory, the one that had tormented him most this past month. Crossing the room in a few swift strides Draco reached the ceiling to floor windows and grabbing hold of the heavy curtains gave a great tug, sweeping them back and letting the early morning sunlight into the room, another desperate attempt to banish his nightmares. The shadows were gone now, the room bathed in light, but his memories couldn't be chased away so easily, that silvery ferret still hovered at the edges of his thoughts, teasing him. What did it mean? Draco knew it meant something, and something profound at that, a witches Patronus didn't just change for no reason, he knew that, so why had it, and why, of all creatures, had it morphed to a ferret? An answer threatened to present its self, a naïve fantasy that Draco quickly squashed, THAT was impossible, especially given her obvious affections for Potter, and Draco was a fool if he thought otherwise. But still, the hope was there, lingering just like the Patronus, and scowling deeply Draco fidgeted, realising he was standing listlessly in the middle of the room. But, a traitorous part of Draco, a tentative part full of undue hope chimed, but she saved him. She, the woman who professed to hate him so fiercely, had stood between him and Voldemort, she had tried to protect him, and why would she do that if she didn't care about him?

With a frustrated snarl the boy took to pacing, no, he wouldn't think of that, he wouldn't do that to himself. Unable to bear the inactivity Draco swept across the room, his pace almost manic, he'd been sitting here, torturing himself with thoughts of the past, of that night, of HER, for a month now and he had had enough. But Merlin she had saved him! He could remember it all so clearly, as vivid as though he were living it now, in his mind's eye he could see the way the crowd parted, exposing him to Voldemort's wrath without a second thought, could see the taunting, murderous glint in his 'master's' eye, the single intent there, could feel the sickening blow to the stomach feeling of being in danger and being completely alone. And then she had come, marching across the hall, in full view of everyone, with that determination that only she could possess, bruised and battle worn she had strode into place in front of him, and Draco had never felt more stunned or more terrified in his life.

_"I will stand between you and him."_ Her words still echoed in his ears, filled him up and wrapped themselves tightly around his heart, even horrified that she would risk her life like that; Draco could not deny how those simple words made him feel.

But he should, Draco thought, turning swiftly and walking back the way he had come, head down and scowling. He should deny his emotions because no good would come of them, he had let her down, lost her trust and betrayed her, he wasn't what she deserved, he wasn't like Potter, he wasn't a hero. But still those memories plagued him, tormented him every minute of every day, he knew he should leave her be, let her go, but he didn't want to. She had saved him, so many times, and he wanted to know why. He simply had to know, he couldn't say why it was so important, only that it was. And that was it, Draco made his choice, and making his first real decision since getting home, Draco acted quickly, before he could talk himself back into his miserable stupor.

"Kidda!" He called, louder than he might have ordinarily, but a sense of urgency had taken hold of him.

The elf appeared in the room instantly, with a definitive crack that sounded out over the roar of the fire, "Yes, Master?" Kidda asked her tone wary as she looked up at her master and saw a strange new glimmer in his eyes.

"I'm going out," Draco said in a firm tone, noting the look of surprise on the elf's face and not all that shocked to see it there, ever since the Order had let him go Draco had confined himself to the manor in a kind of self-imposed prison sentence, he hadn't even found it in him to visit his parents yet, right now, he simply couldn't see them.

Due to start what the Order had dubbed 'community service' in one week's time, it was to be Draco's only punishment, but the blond could hardly believe that was all. He had let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, he had helped to kill Dumbledore and had been a Death Eater himself, admittedly not a committed one, but all the same, surely he deserved a worse fate than that, he had certainly expected one. However, when he had asked Kingsley about this the acting Minister had looked at him as though he were crazy, and told him on no uncertain terms that he was extremely lucky, that evidence had been put forward to prove that Draco was an innocent party, for the most part anyway, and what was more that without his actions the war would not have concluded as it did. Draco doubted this very much, and he certainly didn't feel lucky, he felt suspicious, convinced that this couldn't last, that sooner or later they would make him pay for what he did, but more than that he felt lonely in the crushing solitude of Malfoy Manor, and might have even welcomed the Order of the Phoenix coming to arrest him.

So, Draco wasn't surprised that Kidda looked so stunned that he was leaving; the elf had been not so subtly hinting that he should go out and do something for weeks, trying everything from remarking at good weather to following him around with his suddenly polished broom, and scattering pots of floo powder around the manor as though it were potpourri. Feeling a rush of shame for his abrupt tone, when Kidda had meant well and done so much for him, and quickly added, in a gentler tone, "I just wanted to let you know."

Still wary, but clearly relieved that Draco was doing something Kidda said, "What a good idea, Master Draco, will you tell Kidda where you are going?"

"Just out," Draco said, not feeling comfortable telling her the truth he had settled on, "I need to get some questions answered."

And with that, Draco, fully in control over apparition in and out of the house as lord of the manor in his father's absence, disapparated from the room, focusing with all his might on one place. A large, comfortable house in the middle of a dodgy Muggle estate, he could see it vividly in his mind, the cracked pavements, overflowing flowerbeds, ever present laughter, the scent of citrus. One moment he was standing in the ridged, dismal morning room of the manor, the next he was there, the bright summer sunlight warming his pale face.

He'd remembered to apparate outside the house this time at least, he though with a wry smile on his lips. However, in his haste he hadn't given any thought to any lingering Muggles who might have seen him. Finding himself standing in the middle of the dead end street he appeared to be lucky though, as no one seemed to be around, and the little street looked quite deserted. Or so he had thought, until he turned to face the house in question, number seven, and spotted a young blonde girl standing frozen by the outside tap, water dripping over her fingers as the strange, pink, bludger-sized object she held there overflowed. The blonde girl stood there a moment, mouth agape, and just as Draco realised who she was, she ran, the pink ball bursting in a shower of water at her feet as she took off towards the front door shouting, "Matt!"

Cursing his lack of foresight Draco ran after her, towards the house, this was not the way he had wanted to start this conversation, being yelled at for terrorising Ivy's little sister, but it was too late to turn back now, and at least now he would have her attention. The front door flew open before the girl could reach it, her cries having summoned those within and Draco froze.

"Jess? Jess what's wrong?" a young blond man asked worriedly, concern written clearly across his face as he reached for the girl, and, as though sensing Draco's presence, the other boy looked up from comforting his sister, to stare right at Draco. "Wait inside." He told Jess, Draco hardly recognised the young Muggle standing before him, but his stern voice and disapproving glare left no doubt as to who he was. Draco remembered this hostile teenager and bristled under his overly outraged gaze, but reminding himself of his purpose here, slowed to walk, head held high and expression blank as he approached the unreceptive Muggle.

Matt Jones had clearly changed a lot since Draco had last seen him. The younger man was less of a boy than he had been then, he was still Ivy's stupidly over-protective, sunshine blond little brother, but there was something new there now, something that that came from experiencing hardship, having a reason to distrust. There was a sharpness to him now, an edge that wasn't there before. Draco knew that he wasn't welcome here, her brother's expression told him that more clearly than words ever could, but that wasn't about to stop him, Draco had to see Ivy. There was no question about it, and he would do whatever it took to get to her.

"I'm only going to tell you once. Leave. Now." Matt snarled as Draco approached, realising as he did that the boy had grown, he was taller, broader than Draco remembered; he matched Draco in height now, but not in resolve.

"I want to see Ivy." Draco answered truthfully, struggling not to mirror the boy's hostility, his usual defences were fighting to go up, but Draco couldn't succumb to them, he needed Matt on his side, needed his help.

Matt laughed at that, the noise was sarcastic and biting, and it grated on Draco's nerves, but he fought to keep silent. "She won't see you; you're wasting your time."

"I think that she's old enough to make her own decisions," Draco said, his tone firm. How like his sister he was, Draco couldn't help but see the similarities in personality, he had the same righteous anger that Ivy did, and no idea how to vent it.

"Oh, I know she is. But I'm telling you now, she won't see you." Matt said, mocking laughter still in his voice and Draco bristled.

"I don't care what you say, I need to talk to her," Draco said, taking a step towards the door only to be stopped when Matt came forwards to meet him, arms folded across his chest.

"You need to leave," Matt told him, in a voice clearly intended to be menacing, but fell pitifully short of the mark, Matt may feel jaded and angry, but Draco had been up against the worst for this woman and it would take a lot more than her moody brother to intimidate him. "You're not welcome here. Besides, you won't find her in there, she's gone."

The anger, sizzling away at Matt's impudent words, vanished instantly with that last comment, "Gone?" Draco repeated, his own expression becoming hard and threatening for the first time as he continued, "Gone where? Tell me where she is?"

"And why the hell would I do that?" he asked in obvious disgust, "after everything you did, after all you put her through?"

Because she saved me, the words drifted errantly through Draco's mind, and I have to know why. What he said aloud was a cold, "That's not your concern."

"Wrong answer," Matt snapped, lashing out suddenly and pushing Draco backwards. Taken completely off guard Draco collided with the garage door with a great, rumbling bang, and the Muggle surged forwards to pin the wizard there, as much with his hard brown eyes, so much like hers, as much as with the arm across his neck, "no, that's where you're wrong, it IS my concern," Struggling Draco's first thought was to reach for his borrowed wand, but with a groan of frustration he stopped himself, he couldn't jinx Ivy's brother, and so, humiliated and furious he turned to glare at the other boy. "I will not let you hurt my sister again." Matt warned and Draco snapped.

"I wouldn't!" he snarled, giving the other blond an almighty shove that sent Matt staggering backwards, much to his obvious surprise, however, his shock didn't paralyze him for long.

"Too bloody late!" Matt yelled, starting back towards Draco, who felt more than ready to face the boy, "You've already done that, pal, so why don't you just jog on before you feel the need to betray her again."

Draco fisted his right hand, the skin their stretching tight against bone, the word forever inscribed there shinning clear across his carpals, 'Traitor'. How he loathed the word, he'd had it thrown in his face over and over again this year, and he still felt the sting of the term now in spite of everything. But not because of his wounded pride or because he was innocent of the word, because Draco knew he was not, but because every time he heard that word, it was Ivy's voice he heard in his head.

"You don't think I know that?" Draco asked, his voice calm as his gaze levelled with Matt's, the Jones boy's eyes widening as Draco visibly sank, "you don't think that I'm well aware of how badly I've ruined things, you don't think that I regret that blasted decision every, single, day?" he demanded, oblivious to the other boys wavering expression, so captivated was he by his own dismay, "because I do, more than I could ever say, and more than you could even begin to understand"

**Ivy**

"Why is everyone so bloody, chuffing miserable?" I asked, drumming my fingers irritably on the table top, in time with that wretched song, the twelfth track on a CD that had been the bane of my existence all morning. "I mean, honestly, doesn't anyone have any cheerful songs to play?" I snapped gesturing towards the offending music stall with perhaps slightly undue, but keenly felt annoyance.

"Ah, shut it Miss Mardy Bum," Lester chastised, from where he sat in the corner of the booth, not even looking up from his copy of the Prophet. "I like it."

At his comments I let out a very unladylike snort and stilled my drumming fingers, only to take up the beat with my tapping foot instead. Bloody song!

"And give that glaring a rest; you'll scare off the customers." He rebuked, the creak of his tatty red velvet stool filling the pause as he shifted in his seat, "it'll get easier you know." He added gently, and I sighed feeling all my bluster leave me in the exhale.

"I know," I agreed, though my tone did not. I'd been back in 'normal' society for a little over a month now, and all everyone seemed to be able to say was that it would get easier. It wasn't even just the change, the getting used to everyday life again, so much had happened since that day, the last day of the war, too much too soon for any of us to really be able to take any of it in. After the smoke had cleared we'd been left with the reality of what we now faced, rebuilding our world, our school, our lives, making sure that this kind of thing never happened again. And I knew that most of it wasn't my responsibility, not really, but I could appreciate the enormity of what was still to be done. It didn't feel over, not really, Voldemort was gone, his regime overthrown, but I still had all this…energy, I felt on edge, like there were still knots left to tie, still things left unsaid. I shook my head at that, and tried not to think too closely about what these things might be.

"Sooner or later," I agreed, disliking the morbidity of my thoughts, I wanted to be angry again, I could cope with that better, if this year had taught me one thing it was that I was rubbish at dealing with sadness. "We got any stock coming in today?" I asked, deciding it was best if I were occupied.

"I've got a batch of Remembralls coming this afternoon, apparently they're the 'in' thing at the moment, funny what celebrity association will do for naff items," Lester said, and I found myself mirroring his knowing smile, glad Neville was finally getting the recognition he deserved. "I dunno," he said stretching, "we used to jinx other kids for carrying stuff like that," he commented, a teasing smirk replacing his smile, my laugh was easy and natural, and encouraging. "Common," he said, getting to his feet, "I reckon I should actually do some work, why don't you go make some space for the stock? Jenson said it'd be here about twenty to two, but you know what he's like, couldn't keep to a time is his life depended on it."

"Alright," I said, crouching down behind the table and grinning up at Lester, "anything to get away from Mr Fifty-Saddest-Love-Songs." My joke seemed to ease his concerned expression, and I felt a rush of affection for my boss and friend, he did worry.

Pushing aside the (also tatty and red velvet) curtain that hid the underside of the table from view, I shuffled into the space under the desk and pulled the curtain closed behind me. Sighing again I sat myself down on the floor and surveyed the squat room, undetectable extension charm aside there wasn't much space in Lester's store room. The ceiling, which rested only a few inches above my head, had felt uncomfortably close when I had started my summer job with Lester a couple of weeks ago, but I was used to it by now. Scooting towards the first of seven rows of shelves, stretching far beyond the apparent end of the market stall table, I picked up a small shrunken box and squinted to read its tiny lettering, trying to decide if I could move it or not, according the Lester peculiar organising system. Deciding it and, therefore those around it, contained exploding snap boxes I leant over to the next isle, where there was another load of boxes containing the same, and began the thrilling task of staking the boxes from the first isle, on top of the boxes on the second isle, where they belonged.

"You up to owt nice tonight?" Lester asked amicably through the gap in the curtain.

"The others and I are going to visit Teddy," I called back, smiling fondly at the thought of my little godson. It had been too long since I had last seen Teddy, not since the funeral, and at that thought I stopped in my stacking before quickly shaking off unpleasant memories and resuming my work.

"Aw, that'll be nice." Lester cooed, a big softy when it came to babies.

"Yeah," I agreed quietly, Lester must have heard something in my half-hearted reply, as he left the conversation there, and I appreciated it, trying not to think about how many funerals I had attended this month.

Life wasn't all that bad, I reminded myself firmly, really it wasn't, the war was over, the danger was gone, and despite all the challenges our world faced things were looking good. Hogwarts would be as good as new soon enough, and inviting all last year's seventh years to redo their school year properly, Kingsley looked to be the favourite for the permanent ministers position, pending a formal election of course, I was with my family again, and my friends were safe and in love. Heck, I'd even almost mastered my visions. I was happy about all that, I really was, but I don't know, every now and again, and more often than I would like, I got the feeling that there was still…something, that there was still something to be done. This feeling and I didn't get on well together; it made me feel nervous and tense, it put me in a right foul mood that I couldn't seem to shift when all I wanted to do was enjoy my return to normal life. Scowling my box stacking grew increasingly less gentle.

"You're being stupid," I told myself, "everything's fine. What are you expecting anyway, a Death Eater to come waltzing across the market wreaking havoc?" There wasn't one stupid or brazen enough for that, not any more at least.

"Ivy," Lester called, banging a little on the desk to get her attention, "you'd better come back out here."

Rolling my eyes I abandoned my exciting task and shuffled towards the curtain, "I'm coming. What's up? It can't be Jenson's delivery, I didn't hear anything break."

Stumbling to my feet I wiped my dusty hands on my jeans as I turned to ask Lester what he wanted, but the words never left my mouth, they stayed lodged in my chest as my heart shot up into my throat, even as my stomach plummeted. For one lingering moment, I could only stand there, blinking just to be sure I wasn't imaging this; realising that I wasn't I fought with myself not to reach for my necklace, suddenly far too warm and agitated. I watched Draco striding across the market with wide eyes, seeing clearly even from this distance the intent written clearly across his face, and knew I had to act.

"I've got to take care of this," I said, quickly composing myself I pushed open the side door without waiting for Lester's response, taking a few, deep, centring breaths I schooled my features into a more acceptable expression and forced myself into motion.

Marching swiftly across the market place, I moved to intercept him and a nervous tingling broke out suddenly all over me, making me want to smooth down my clothes and flatten my hair, however this desire succeeded only in heightening my agitation, and I kept my hands in tight fists by my sides. Refusing to let him get too close to the stall, to my space, I quickened my pace and was surprised to see that he had too the gap between us was closing swiftly. Good, I thought, the sooner I could get to him the sooner I could get rid of him. And with that thought first and foremost in my mind, we met.

"Ivy," he started but my pace didn't falter, snatching his arm I pulled him backwards the way he had come, scanning the area quickly for somewhere that would suit my purpose. I felt him stumble, I'd taken him by surprise and he jolted my arm as he tripped a little, but he recovered quickly and I didn't slow my pace as I pushed him between two empty stalls.

Gritting my teeth I turned to look up at him, silvery blue eyes looked down at me, the oddest mixture of determination and plea that I had ever seen, and I had to look away. I folded my arms tightly across my chest to cover my reaction and cursed him. He'd robbed me of my dignity, abused my trust and attempted to destroy everything I held dear, and he still took my breath. Even after everything that had happened, a whole year apart, he was still striking, all sharp, defined features and regal beauty. Merlin I was so shallow! What was wrong with me? My cheeks flamed with my mortification and I could already feel my emotions building dangerously inside of me, I had to get rid of him, he couldn't be here.

"Ivy," he said again, his voice a gentle coax, and with my back still to him I shut my eyes, "Ivy I need to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you," I said, fully aware of how childish I must sound.

"I don't care," he said, his voice echoing the resolve I'd seen on his face, "I have to talk you, but I can't do it if you won't look at me," his touch took me completely off guard, the sensation of his hand wrapped lightly around my arm stunned me so much that I didn't fight as he turned me gently to face him, didn't shrug off his hold as he held me there and bent his head towards mine in earnest as he spoke, "I need to ask you something."

"No," I said, snapping out of whatever trance he had lulled me unto I threw off his grip and took a firm step backwards, "you don't get your questions answered, it doesn't work like that. Why should I do for you what you wouldn't do for me?"

"Ivy, I'll tell you everything, anything you want to know," he insisted, taking a step towards me, the sincere, urgent tone he seemed to use unnerving me.

"I don't want to know anymore," I said, holding my hands up to stop his progress, "I don't care, I'm past caring about anything to do with you."

Draco's posture became immediately ridged, in fact it looked as though he had physically recoiled at what I had said, but I told myself that I didn't care about that, he deserved it after all, and he carried on anyway. "I know what I did was wrong…"

"Wrong? You lied to me!" I yelled, suddenly aware of how shrill my voice was becoming I fought to calm myself.

"I know…" He started but I had well and truly seen red now.

"No, you don't know, you lied to me, made me trust you again, made me believe that I was your friend, when the whole time, the whole bloody time, you really were working for HIM." I was shouting now, I knew it, and embarrassed to be making such a show of myself, making it look as though I cared about what he had done, I straightened my back and fought to remove all expression from my face.

"I made so many stupid mistakes last year, but I can't take them back, Ivy, I can't change things," he insisted, his voice so genuine, so pleading that I couldn't bear it, "but I would if I could, Ivy, you were…"

"Don't bother;" I snapped, cutting across him, unable to let him go on any further, scared of what he might say, "don't even bother."

"The least you could do is hear me out," Draco said, raising his voice, really, for the first time since he had gotten here, "I'm trying to fix things."

The cold, mocking laugh that erupted from my lips left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I didn't let it stop me, "there is nothing here for you to try and fix, there hasn't been for a long time, you did me a favour that day."

"Ivy," he tried again, his voice and his expression stern, he was getting annoyed with me now, I could tell.

"Look," I snapped, somehow managing to meet his earnest gaze, "the very least YOU could do, is have a bit of consideration and leave me alone."

"That's what you want, Ivy?" He asked me, anger and other emotions that I didn't want to even try and name seeping from every single pore, that deep intensity he did so well. "Do you want me to go?"

I couldn't answer right away, the words wouldn't come out, it was all I could do to keep glaring at him as the silence weighed heavy around us, but when I finally forced myself to speak, it was in a cold, steady, heartless voice, "that is all I want," I told him.

He didn't react, that was the worst part, as the old Draco took control again, his elegant and expressive face shut down completely, his voice was like ice when he spoke, "Fine then," he sneered, and pursing his lips he held his head a little higher before dissaparating, just like that, with no more argument. Adrenalin waning I stepped back, resting against the cool metal beam of a nearby stall, and told myself that I had done the right thing.

**Author note: Hello to anyone still out there, I don't really know what to say, other than I'm sorry. I don't really have an excuse for a year long absence other than being incredibly busy, I have been working on this in bits and bats, adding to it when I can, and I really don't think its worth the wait, but now its done I simply couldn't not upload it. I also just want to say thank you to you all, why you haven't given up on me yet I do not know, each and every review, every PM or favourite has made me desperate to get this chapter up. I really want to give this story the end it deserves, it's been a love of mine for a while, and I'll try my absolute hardest to get it finished.**


	42. Pieces

**Chapter Forty-Two: Pieces**

**I'm not afraid of love being difficult. If it were easy then everyone would find it. – Said by Peirce, in Kim Harrison's 'Pale Demon'**

**Forgiveness does not always change the past, but it does enlarge the future - Paul Boese**

**Draco**

As the crushing sensation of apparition lifted, and Draco found himself back in his drawing room once more, it was all he could do to keep himself standing; his legs couldn't seem to bear the weight of him under it all. A sob was building in his chest but he refused to vocalise it, tears stung in his eyes that he would not let fall, reaching out for the sofa back he steadied himself. She didn't want him, Merlin take her, she didn't want him. In one swift movement Draco overturned the sofa, turning suddenly he swept across the room, raking his hands through his hair. She wouldn't even hear him out, he thought, his frustration mounting he couldn't suppress the growl building in his throat.

"Stubborn woman," he choked his desperation and distress clearly audible, he had practically bared his soul to her, drawn the bull's-eye over his own heart, and she had still rejected him. "What more does she want from me?"

Pacing rapidly every humiliating, agonising second of his rejection replayed in his head, stoking his fury all the more. Why couldn't she have just listened to him? Why couldn't she give him a chance, just this once? He'd done wrong, he knew that, hadn't he even said as much to her? Surely she must know what it cost him to say that, but still she refused to hear him. Bloody woman. Was he really so vile in her eyes that he was beyond her forgiveness? That thought stilled him, and as a soft knock sounded on the drawing room door he turned.

"Master Draco?" Came Kidda's questioning voice, and deifying all logic, all the common sense he possessed, he still managed to be disappointed by the sound. Honestly, what had he expected?

"Not now, Kidda," he growled, more sharply than he might have, more annoyed with himself than the elf. Turning his back on the door Draco struggled to regain his composure, acting like this wasn't going to do him any good, he had to get a handle on his rogue emotions.

"Master Draco," Kidda persisted, knocking again. Was it Draco's imagination or did she sound breathless?

"I said," Draco snarled, rounding on the door, "not now, Kidda."

"Kidda is sorry master Draco," Kidda said opening the door with casual defiance in the face of his obvious temper; he was right, her voice was breathless with excitement, "Kidda had to disturb you, there is a visitor, mistress Ivy."

Draco blinked, dumbstruck as the elf gestured behind her, unable to comprehend was he was seeing, to make sense of it. Standing a few steps behind Kidda bathed in the shadow of the hallway, and looking uncommonly sheepish, was Ivy. Unable to stop himself Draco took a stumbling step forwards on shaking legs that once again threatened to spill him onto the carpet; she was here. The sight of her standing there hurt almost like she had punched him and drew him up short, she was here? Why was here? He asked himself suspiciously, hadn't she said that she'd said all she wanted to say to him? Drawing himself up to full height Draco levelled his gaze upon the vision still standing out in the corridor, girding himself for an attack, clearly she wasn't finished with him yet.

**Ivy**

_"That's what you want, Ivy? Do you want me to go?" _

The words rang loudly in my head as I rested against the empty stall, knuckles white as I gripped tightly at the wood, trying to gather up my composure.

_"That is all I want," _

Cringing I closed my eyes at the cold words, ringing clearly in my eyes, expelling a breath as a wave of sickness hit me, a feeling faintly like guilt, I rocked myself forwards and told myself to snap out of it, I had to get back to work, but it didn't change anything, all I could see was Draco's expression as he disapparated, and I felt even worse. It was the best decision, the only option, it didn't matter that everything I had said had been a lie or worse, how could I possibly have said anything else? I wasn't going to make the same mistake again, I'd have wanted locking up if I'd been stupid enough to listen to him, to let him talk me back around. I'd been there before and I wasn't going to do it again, I couldn't, not after last year, I just couldn't.

I opened my eyes, breathing steadily, and was met with the sight of him charging determinedly across the market towards me, in my mind's eye, a passionate fire burning in his eyes as he asked me to give him another chance, to let him fix things between us.

_"There's nothing here for you to try and fix," _

It was a cruel thing to have said, and the worse kind of lie, but it was necessary, I assured myself, if I was cruel he wouldn't keep coming back, wouldn't keep tempting me. I didn't have time for him and all the drama he brought into my life, I had my friends, I had Lester's, there was the new school year, and I had to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, I didn't have the time to wade through my feelings for a conflicted former Death Eater. The last two years had brought so much hassle, fear and pain, and I just wanted things to be simple. And Draco Malfoy was anything but simple, I thought, a rebellious smile curling its way onto my face that I quickly shook away.

Springing to my feet I quickly brushed myself down and turned back towards Lester's, telling myself that clearly I was right to avoid Draco, he presented too dangerous a invitation for me and it was far better for my sanity to let him go. Walking back the way I had come I thought about Draco Malfoy, all the arguments and the fights, all the betrayals and the tears, and I assured myself that this was the right thing, the never-ending fury and deep aching pain he inspired, every heart stopping glance and every thrilling second of it all, I didn't need it. Yes, I told myself, my heart racing in my chest, I was better off without him, one person should never inspire so much emotion, it wasn't natural. It had always been that way, Dumbledore had been right, I could see that now, everything he said, everything he did, he had always affected me so much more than anyone else, and it needed to stop, it wouldn't do either of us any good, our entire past showed that it never had.

I was nearing Lester now; he looked up questioningly at me, enquiring if I was alright with only a look in my direction. And I was, I'd done what had to be done, yes at the time it was mainly inspired by anger and hurt, but it was for the best, and I was fine. I was trembling. Draco would thank me for it, it was best he didn't ask the question he had come to ask, whatever it was, it wouldn't have helped us. The fear was setting in now, an all-consuming panic gripping at my lungs and making breathing difficult. We ought not to be together, there was too much between us, too much history, heck, we couldn't even be in a room together for more than five minutes without arguing. What kind of basis was that for a functional relationship? None what so ever, that was what, it didn't matter how much we meant to each other, how much I loved him, it would never work. I slowed, coming to a steady, contemplative stop, my whole world changing around me in that one instant as the truth and what that really meant slowly dawned upon me.

I loved him.

"Lester," I called across the short distance, "I've got to go."

"You do," He agreed, almost chuckling as he waved his hand at me, "go catch him then, love."

My next move was instinctive, thoughtless, I turned and ran, and as soon as I was out of sight of the Muggles, closed my eyes tight, heart racing in my chest I pictured Malfoy Manor in my mind's eye and apparated. Pressure built in my chest, tight and unrelenting as I was propelled towards my destination, and didn't ease at all when I arrived outside the wrought iron gates. An unconscious shiver rushed down my spine as I caught sight the manor, the ghost of the pain I had been running from the last time I saw this place. I felt a determined frown crease my brow I banishing old memories, and taking a deep breath I reached out a hand to pull the chain of the doorbell. Suddenly a loud crack sounded out, making me jump and stilling my hand.

"Kidda," I gasped, placing a hand against my thundering heart as I spotted the house elf at the other side of the gates, "I thought you were…someone else."

"Kidda is sorry mistress Ivy; Kidda saw you from the house and has come to let you in." She explained and with a wave of her tiny hand the gates opened to admit me, I hesitated, my courage deserting me in the wake of my scare, what if I had pushed him too far? What if he wouldn't listen? "This way mistress," Kidda said, noticing my hesitancy, "master Draco has just returned."

"Yes," I said, thinking that I knew, and steeling myself I stepped with cautious determination into the grounds, following the house elf up the drive. "How are you anyway Kidda?" I asked, wanting to fill the silence, "I bet it's gotten pretty quiet around her lately." Since the Death Eaters left, I added silently.

The elf looked up at me with some surprise, but soon shook that off and in answer to my question said, "Things is very quiet mistress Ivy, Kidda likes it though, it is nice."

"I'm glad," I said with sincerity, but soon found I could say no more as we neared the house. Once again I was assailed with memories, but as we ascended the steps and walked into the entrance hall I did my best to suppress them, things were different now, this time I was here on my own terms, entering under my own power. However, as we turned down an all too familiar passageway I could feel my fear rising like bile in my throat, and couldn't honestly say if it was more to do with my memories or the task at hand. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears as Kidda knocked on the drawing room door, my heart hammering in my chest. This was a stupid mistake, I thought as Draco shouted in response to Kidda's knock, clearly furious, he wouldn't want me here, not now, and I was looking around me in preparation for flight, as the elf tapped on the door again. Kidda pushed the door open then and I could see him, standing there in the middle of the drawing room, and the sight of him rooted me to the spot.

"I said," He yelled, turning on us, causing my heart to catch a little in fear, "not now, Kidda."

"Kidda is sorry master Draco," Kidda said undeterred, "Kidda had to disturb you; there is a visitor, mistress Ivy."

Starting forwards and then stopping suddenly, Draco seemed to catch himself, and sparing hardly a glance for me he said, "show her to the door and leave me be," giving the elf an icy look added in a steady, even voice, "and she is not your mistress, Kidda." Before turning his back on us.

The gesture annoyed me, a lot, but I bit my tongue, sensing that going in all guns blazing was the worst thing I could do right now. Both Kidda and I ignored his requests and as she passed me by I heard the elf mutter something under her breath that sounded faintly like "not yet". Deciding not to think about that for now I walked into the room and closed the door behind me, as softly as I could, there wasn't going to be an easy way to do this, so taking another steadying breath I went for it.

"Draco…" I started gently, stopping as he rounded on me and cut me off.

"I asked you to leave," he snarled, but there was a shimmer of tears in his eyes that betrayed his scathing tone before he quickly looked away from me. My guilt sickened me then, hardening my resolve all the more, how could I leave now, knowing I had done that?

"I know you did," I said, taking a cautious and involuntary step towards him, wanting to get closer to him, "but I can't, not yet at least, I've come…I've come to answer your question, you said you had something to ask me," I explained, cheeks flushing at how painfully insufficient this apology was, "and…and if you still want me to go after that, I will." I told him and he looked at me then, his expression both an accusation and a hope.

"You made it perfectly clear earlier that you didn't care about what I had to say, why should I listen to you now?" he asked me, and I couldn't escape the fact that this was a very valid question, and I hesitated.

"You surprised me earlier," I said, not realising how true that was until now, "I was so angry, I didn't think…"

"You refused to talk to me," He interrupted, still putting on that infuriatingly cold front, and despite myself I bristled at the accusation.

"Hang on a minute," I said, not prepared to let this stand, I wasn't the only one in the wrong, "I tried to talk to you before, after the battle, I wanted to talk about all of this then but you'd already run off. This hasn't been easy for me you know, none of this, I lost friends that day, I needed some support."

There was a flicker of shame, only fleeting in his gaze before he quelled it, "So did I," he said, his face impassive but with obvious pain in his voice.

"I know you did," I replied blushing, "I remember," I added, the room suddenly feeling too close, too warm, I tugged at my neckline uncomfortably before looking at the fire burning in the hearth. Blinking away the memories I wondered what Draco was doing cooped up in here with the curtains shut and the fire going on such a bright summer's day.

Apart we stood together in the middle of the room, the silence was heavy in the air around us, Draco was watching me, I could feel it, his hard but curious gaze was fixed on me, while I looked anywhere in the darkened room but at him. The purpose with which I had come here was fast evaporating, leaving nothing but a sense of stubborn desperation I didn't know what to do with.

"How are your parents?" I asked, glancing up at him out of the corner of my eye.

Draco snorted, "They've been arrested as Death Eaters, how do you think they are?" he snapped, before sighing, his shoulders slumping Draco looked at me for a long moment before adding, "I don't know, I haven't been to see them."

I nodded, a natural gesture that he returned, before silently crossing the room and taking a seat on the only remaining upright sofa, looking up at me Draco silently gestured for me to sit beside him, and I wordlessly followed.

"What did you want to ask me?" I asked quietly, seated beside him and watching the tired looking blond closely.

"It doesn't matter," Draco replied, his pale cheeks colouring and clasping his hands nervously, this chance movement halted the insistence on my lips, and instructively my hand shot out to still his as I noticed something I had never seen before.

"What's this?" I asked, grabbing hold of his right hand, which he immediately tried to wrestle away, insisting that it was nothing.

"Ivy, leave it," he pleaded, failing in his attempts to free his hand, "it doesn't matter."

"It must do, or you wouldn't be fighting so much," I said, frowning I batted his other hand away and inspected the back of the one I held, horrified my gaze immediately shot to Draco's as I read the words scared on his flesh, 'traitor', "Who did this?" I asked, "Draco; was it after the battle? They weren't allowed, they're breaking the agreed terms, you weren't to be harmed, I made sure…" Catching myself I cleared my throat and quickly tried to calm myself before adding, "No one was meant to be harmed after the surrender; there are punishments for this kind of behaviour…"

"What do you mean, you 'made sure' I wasn't harmed?" He asked me, his voice so light that it implied that he was wilfully trying to change the subject, and colouring horribly I refused to have that.

"That's not the issue," I said firmly before repeating, "Who did this to you?" I couldn't help the way my voice caught as I said that, the scars on the back of my left hand aching in sympathetic pain, I was furious.

Draco took his time in answering me, looking sheepish I felt certain that he would rather tell me anything but the truth, however something in my expression must have made it clear that wasn't an option as after a long pause he said, "the Carrows," in such a defeated, irritated tone that I had to believe him.

"Why?" I asked, frowning in confusion I looked down at his hand again, "it doesn't make any sense, why would they…" I trailed off as realisation hit me, "Oh," I said, feeling sick to my stomach with shame and anger, "because of me, they did this because you were helping me, because you sent the letters and helped me escape."

Draco's frown only deepened at my words, "how do you know about that?" he asked, clearly shocked, "how do you know about the letters."

Uncomfortable I shifted a little in my seat, "Dumbledore told me, after the battle, when I couldn't find you I went to see him, he showed me the memories in the phial and told me you'd been helping me." I told him, searching his gaze as I spoke, "I didn't believe him, not really, until now."

Draco seemed unsure what to say to that, and with a peculiar expression on his face looked down at our hands, it was only in following his gaze that I realised I had been absentmindedly stroking the scars on his hand. Blushing I stopped immediately, dropped his hand and began to fiddle with the chain around my neck.

"Yes," Draco said, in a decidedly level voice, "but how did he know? He's…" Draco trailed off, looking uncomfortable now, unable to speak easily of the previous headmaster.

"Snape told him," I said, deciding it was best to spare him the need to mention Dumbledore's death, "or rather, his portrait."

"Seems I'll never be free of their interference," Draco complained with no real sincerity.

A pause followed his words, another silence composed entirely of all the things we weren't saying to each other. I watched him then, watched the myriad of conflicting emotions playing across his face as he avoided my gaze, and couldn't resist the question on my lips.

"Why did you bother?" I asked him, feeling very vulnerable suddenly, "you left, why did you bother to help me?"

Draco visibly cringed at my question, but when he turned to look at me he was wearing an expression that said clearly that he wondered at the level of my intelligence. But that wasn't enough; I needed him to tell me why he had helped me, to hear him say it or I simply couldn't believe it, and Draco knew that, as sighing again he opened his mouth and said,

"Ivy?" frowning deeply, his gaze flicking from my gaze to my chest and back again, "What is that?" he asked, reaching out to take hold of my chain.

"Wait," I said, panic flooding me I closed my hand tightly around the chain, realising what he intended, "don't," I all but begged, unable to bear that much of myself, not yet.

Frowning all the more at my tone Draco looked at me searchingly before blatantly ignoring my pleading and taking my hand in his. Gently Draco peeled back my fingers and I knew resistance was futile; closing my eyes my breath came out in a rush of humiliation as Draco uncovered the ring.

"You kept it," he said almost wondrously, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "I thought that you'd thrown it."

Heat spreading steadily up my neck and across my cheeks I shook my head, "I couldn't," I told him, opening my eyes to see an expression of pure astonishment, bright and beautiful on his face.

"Why?" he asked, still holding the ring and my hand both.

The lie was on the tip of my tongue without me needed to think about it, the instinct was there, the self-preservation mechanism wanted to tell him the same thing I had been telling myself all year, that it was a reminder, a permanent representation of why I couldn't trust him, why I never had, but I just shook my head. Even I couldn't believe that anymore.

"Why did you write those letters?" I asked him, my voice as hushed as his, both of us speaking so softly, as though afraid this peace might break.

"Ivy," he said, a groan of desperation, he released my hand only to wrap his own hand around my arm, drawing me slightly closer so that I was looking right in his eyes as he said, "tell me."

And how could I not?

"I couldn't," I said, the truth coming out in a frantic rush lest I return to my senses and stifle it, "I tried to, so many times but I just couldn't. I didn't want to keep it, but I couldn't part with it. Oh god, what am I saying?" I asked, suddenly horrified by what I was divulging, this was too much, this wasn't why I had come here, I'd come to hear him out, to give him a chance, not to make a fool of myself.

Immediately I sprung to my feet, I had to leave, now, I had to get myself out of this situation, it was far too painful and all too familiar. "I'm going to go, before this mental breakdown goes any further." I said, untangling myself from Draco's grip and heading for the door.

"Oh no you don't," Draco said taking hold of my wrist and spinning me back around, before I'd taken so much as a step I found myself wrapped up in his arms, "not now Ivy, don't do this now."

"Don't YOU do this," I said, pushing against his chest in an effort to free myself, but Draco refused to surrender me, "I'm not doing this again Draco," I said, almost on the verge of the most pathetic tears but unable to pretend any more.

"Not doing what?" He asked me, a gentle question and frustrated I threw him a dark look, he knew exactly what I meant, he nodded that he did, and not making me say it aloud, "I don't think we have a choice," he admitted softly, "we just can't leave each other be."

"I wish we could," I said vehemently, tears stinging my eyes as I rested my forehead against his as he held me firm, "I wish I could let you go and forget all this."

"That's fair I suppose," he said, though there was no missing the hurt in his voice, and he turned his head slightly to look down at me as he added, "I don't though, I don't think I could forget you for anything."

The damn burst then, all the emotions I'd been holding back for over a year now, all the hurt, all the loneliness, and all the love, I couldn't stop myself, tears rolling down my cheeks I threw my arms around his neck and held him close. Draco responded instantly, with equal ferocity he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him, a sob of his own escaping his lips as he buried his free hand in my hair. We stood there in silence, just holding each other and marvelling in that simple miracle, as for a few blissful moments all the hurt we had both endured was washed away. Slowly though, reality crept back and I couldn't keep my silence.

Still holding him tightly I asked, "why did you do it?" my voice a frightened whisper as I asked the question I feared most of all, "why did you leave?"

For the longest moment Draco didn't answer me, and I was afraid that he wouldn't, that he would refuse to answer. Fear was fast setting in as rubbing my back Draco sighed and pulled away from me as he said, "you would ask me that," his voice neither irritable nor accusatory, simply tired.

Terrified of what he might say, I searched his face, desperately hoping that he was building himself up for the truth and not conjuring lies, when at last he spoke, "I was stupid," Draco told me, his arms still forming a circle around my waist, as though afraid I might run again, "and I was arrogant. The dark lord gave me the job and I thought that I could prove myself to him, to my family and the others, I didn't really think about what it would involve or what he really wanted, and by the time I did it was too late. I felt important and I liked that, but it was never my choice, Voldemort was punishing my family by sending me to my death, I know that now." He said, his expression hard and pained, and I couldn't help but raise my hand to his cheek, wanting to smooth that expression away. His eyes shuttered closed at my touch and he sighed again.

"I never wanted to get you involved," he told me suddenly, passion blazing in his gaze now, "I never wanted to hurt you, but I couldn't get you to leave and then I didn't want you to. I didn't want to go, but I didn't have a choice. I never wanted to hurt you, Ivy, I promise you that, I…"

"I know," I said, and I did, with every bit of me I knew he'd never meant to hurt me, "Draco, I know." I said, bringing my other hand up to cup his face and stroke his hair.

Raising his hand to place atop my own Draco turned his face towards my palm, placing a kiss in the centre of it, "why did you do it?" he asked me, "that's what I wanted to ask earlier, why do you always try and save me?"

Choking on my emotions it took me a moment to find my voice, and longer to convince myself that I could finally do this, that I could let it out. "Because I can't bear to see you hurt," I told him, stroking his cheek with my thumb, feeling the tears well up again I blinked them away before I took the plunge, "because I love you."

Afraid I searched Draco's stunned gaze for any indication of what he was thinking, suddenly fearful that I'd put myself too far out there, but before my worried thoughts were even fully formed in my mind, Draco's lips had descended on mine and I thought no more. The kiss was desperate, all consuming, it spoke of long buried feelings and too much separation, but as I deepened the kiss, drawing him closer, I couldn't deny how familiar this felt, how right. We broke apart breathless, but even still as he held me against his chest Draco found air enough in his lungs to say, "I love you too," quietly against my hair.

"It shouldn't have taken us this long," I said from within his embrace.

Draco laughed at that and the sound warmed me, I smiled against his chest, "no, it shouldn't, but to be fair to us both there were one or two things in our way."

I nodded, "there may still be, I don't think your family will be too thrilled about this." I said, barely suppressing a shudder at the thought of being presented to his mother.

"Potter won't be happy either." Draco said in response, a definitive edge to his voice that hadn't been there before.

"Harry," I said, stressing his name, "and the others will just have to get used to the idea, besides they're all so loved up themselves I doubt think that they'd notice any time soon." I said nonchalantly, and confusion hit me hard as I felt Draco pull away from me so that he could look down at me, he was frowning again and there was a questioning look on his face.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked me; in such a harsh tone that it seemed almost accusatory, though what he was accusing me of I had no idea.

"Of course it is," I told him, confused, "why would you even ask that?"

"Because I'm not like Potter," he told me sternly, as though that were answer enough.

Twice as confused as before I blinked a little before I answered, "I think I know that," I said, "but what does that matter?"

"I want you to walk into this with your eyes wide open and under no delusions," he told me as he griped my shoulders tightly, his voice almost frantic now, "I'm not perfect, I make bad decisions, I'm selfish, I'm not a hero and I most definitely am not Potter."

"I think by now I know what you're like," I told him hotly, not liking the way this was going, "and no, you're not like Harry, you are you, what's your point?"

"My point is that if that's what you're looking for, if HE'S what you're looking for, you won't find that here." He told me, learning down to me in emphasis.

"You can't be serious," I said dismissively, until I noticed the earnest look in his eyes and shrilled, "you are serious! Draco that's ridiculous, Harry's like my brother! The very thought makes me feel a little bit sick, why are you saying this? Where has this come from?" I asked him, reaching out to place my hands of his shoulders, desperate to reassure him.

"At school you were always so close," Draco told me, his expression making it plain just how distasteful these words were to him, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "I know how important he is to you and you are to him, and after this year, you've been together all the time…"

"Yeah and I think we're all a bit sick of each other now," I told him, a vain attempt at a joke, and seeing that fall flat I knew this was serious, that he actually thought Harry was a concern. "There are many different types of love," I told him simply, brushing his cheek with my fingers, "and the love I feel for Harry, for Ron and Hermione too, is so different from the love I feel for you, that it's virtually indistinguishable as the same emotion."

There was a hopeful look on Draco's face but he carried on, "it's alright you know, while were being honest with each other for once you can tell, if you wanted it to be him."

"Never," I told him, cupping his cheeks again and forcing him to look at me, "not even for a moment. I love YOU, how many times do I need to tell you that before you believe me. You infuriating man, I don't know why but I love you." I told him honestly; unsure of what more I could do to make him believe me.

"Who are you calling infuriating?" he joked, somewhat half-heartedly, and I almost sighed in relief, "you're not exactly easy yourself."

"Don't stop, you charmer," I teased, grinning up at him and while he smiled back at me I could tell that he was still doubtful. Goodness how we'd messed this up for ourselves, I thought dejectedly, all our fear, all our insecurities could have been dealt with much sooner if we'd just been honest with ourselves. "Come on," I said, gesturing back to the overturned sofa, "let's put this place to rights."

He nodded and in silence we picked up the sofa and sat down again, the threat of awkwardness hanging in the air, I was searching for something to say before we ruined all this progress when I remembered something. "Your wand," I said, reaching into my back pocket I pulled out the Hawthorn wand and handed it back to its brooding owner. "You probably want that back."

"Thank you," he said simply and I could hardly hide my disappointment at the apathy in his voice, "here, this must be yours then." I said and Draco pulled my wand from his own pocket, I recognised it at once and as soon as it was back in my hands it felt as comfortable and familiar as a pair of old slippers.

"Thanks," I said, with a bit more feeling than he'd managed, "it's good to have it back. I've been meaning to ask," I added cautiously, seeing an opportunity, "how did it work for you?"

"Well," he said, displaying some genuine confusion at that, "as well as my own wand actually, and no one could say why."

I nodded, "yours was the same for me," I told him, seeing curiosity spark in his eyes he shuffled closer to me as he asked,

"Why is that? My father told me that borrowed wands usually don't work as well as one that's chosen you."

Flushing I met his gaze, a little uncomfortable at discussing this very sentimental topic, but it had been a sentimental day, and this might be the only way I could get him to believe me. "They don't, but there's a safety charm inbuilt in all wands, a kind of protective instinct that means that sometimes family members can use each other's wands." I said almost questioningly, wondering if he'd heard of it, and he nodded to say that he had.

"But we're not family," he said, looking at me searchingly as he thought about what that meant.

"No, were not," I said, clearing my throat at the awkwardness, "but I guess any strong bond will do."

I looked at him cautiously, optimistically, and watched him digest what I had said, he seemed unsure what to do with it, do deciding to be bold I carried on, "I love you Draco, you never need to worry about that," I told him, taking his hand in mine and squeezing tightly, "we've both made mistakes in the past, but that doesn't matter now; just so long as you don't leave me here babbling on like this," I said, laughing nervously, "I've never been very good at this."

Wrapping his arms around me Draco drew me close then, and as he did a noise of great relief bubbled from my lips, "me neither," he told me, kissing me lightly on the lips, a kiss so different from our last but no less heart stopping, no less precious, "it's a good job we have each other to blunder along with then."

"Yes it is," I agreed looping my arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss his bright and if I wasn't much mistaken, wicked smile, oh how I'd missed that look I thought, grinning widely to myself. Unable to resist temptation any longer I closed the distance between us and kissed him soundly, holding nothing back, free from our fear and from our secrets, there was nothing left but us.

**Authors note: I don't think I have any right to expect anyone to still actually be reading this; you've been waiting a while for this so I wouldn't at all be surprised. It's been something of a long year for me to say the least, and although this story has never been far from my mind there's never been the time to write this. Until last week that is, I caught a bad cold and stayed on uni for a couple of days and found myself writing this. And I can't tell you how glad I am that I did this, not only do my characters (and any of my lovely reviews still out there) deserve this, but also I really needed to do this, for myself, it reminded me a bit of what's important to me, and I needed that.**

**So once again thank you to all my reviewers who have put up with me over the years, I can't tell you how guilty I felt reading one of your lovely reviews and knowing I had nothing new written, and hopefully it won't take me another year to get the next and final chapter written.**


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